


Vulnerability

by sosodesj



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Abuse, Alternate Universe - Dark, F/M, Gangs, Kidnapping, Sexual Content
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-09-25
Updated: 2017-01-10
Packaged: 2017-12-27 13:54:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 21
Words: 52,629
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/979713
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sosodesj/pseuds/sosodesj
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Brooke Evans is a fighter. She isn't scared of many things, and absolutely loathes passing for someone who is weak.  </p><p>Niall is cocky, possesive and arrogant, but he's also very deadly.</p><p>When Niall comes to Chicago, his encounter with Brooke leaves him wanting more. He kidnaps her, and tries to make her see the world from his point of view, using any way he thinks proper to get his point through. He wants to convert her. Make her completely like him. For how long can Brooke fight it, when Niall has become her only vulnerability?</p><p>TRAILER: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=HC-dgSTeTAQ</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. How it Began

The first time I stood up to a bully was in 8th grade. His name was Harry Styles, and at the time, I had always pictured him being in a street gang. Today, I don’t know where he is, or who he became. But the day I stood up to him was the beginning to who I am now.

I remember the day clearly, it being exactly a month after my mother had died from a rare brain cancer. It was supposed to be just another normal day. A day where I would just sit back and look at life pass morosely before my eyes, grieving my mother’s departure. But it turned out differently. On that day, I decided to do something with my life, starting with protecting the weak.

“She told you to leave her alone.” I had said bravely to the older guy, who was pushing a girl in my grade into the lockers.

“And what are you going to do about it?” Harry had retorted. He let go of the girl, advancing predatorily towards me. “Huh? What are you going to do about it?” he repeated. I had thought of something quickly, but dumbly.

“This.” I rapidly kicked him where the sun didn’t shine. He fell down to his knees in pain.

“You’re gonna pay little bitch.” He muttered.

And I did. The next week or so, I was beaten up by him every day until I started really fighting back, taking multiple classes of self-defense and martial arts of all kinds as after-school activities.

After maybe a year, I was the stronger one. I was the one who made him cough up blood, and come back home with a black eye and multiple bruises. He finally left me alone, and never bullied someone under my watch. Nobody dared in fact. They were all scared of me, but I didn’t mind it much. Last time I heard from Harry, he was moving across the sea back to his hometown near London. I felt triumphant. I knew I had protected the people who needed it, and I had absolutely no guilt kicking the ass of people who deserved it.

A year later, there wasn’t a single sign of bullying at school. Having nobody to protect, I took my skills to some darker parts of town, doing small things here and there. That was in 11th grade.

Then I went to college. Things changed drastically after that.

♣○♣○♣○♣

 

“Where are you going?” My father asks as I try sneaking out on another of my nightly escapades. These last few days, people were tense around the city and I had a feeling there was some new street gang involved, but I wasn’t sure. I needed to check it out to make sure they wouldn’t cause too much damage.

“I’m going to hang out with Gabrielle.” I lie fluently, turning the doorknob. He stops me as I open the door.

“Again? You girls do a lot of hanging out don’t you think? And at night...”

“Dad... We’re girls.” I sigh, shutting the door. “Of course we hang out. Bye now!” I start heading out but he stops me again.

“Come back here Brooke.”

“Dad I’m almost 19, I can make my own decisions now.” I groan, sitting at the kitchen table. “And why didn’t you believe me when I told you I’m going to hang out with my friends?”

“Maybe I would’ve believed you if I didn’t know you so well. Your ‘friends’, are actually the people you beat up, therefore not really your friends.”

“So you do agree that I have friends?” I grin.

“Brooke... Friends are friendly. ”

“What if I told you tonight would be different and I’d do what normal teenage girls do? I’d go hang out with my friends at a bar, find a guy, make-out, and then have a one-night stand with him. I could do that.”

“Brooke you’re not a regular girl, so your argument is invalid.” He continues doubtfully, crossing his arms over his chest.

“I am a regular girl.” I protest.

“Oh really? Regular girls are black belts in every martial art possible, and they come home bruised regularly?” He enquires, cocking his eyebrow upwards.

“Some of them are,” I shrug.

“Clearly you don’t know what the word regular means then.”

“So are you gonna let me go or do I have to sneak out?” I question bluntly.

“You’re going to have to try to sneak out.”

“Pfft. You said that the five million other times and I succeeded anyways. Dad, why don’t you let me leave using a normal door? You know I’ll end up making it outside anyways.”

“Well what’s one more try? Maybe you’ll change your mind by the time you’re on the roof.”

“Not likely.”

“Well it’s worth a try.”

I let out frustrated groan, before storming up to my room.

“If you do get out, be safe!” My father yells from downstairs.

 I roll my eyes and cross the length of my room, opening my bedroom window. Sliding under, I place my feet on the windowsill and reach up to the roof, before hoisting myself up.

I stand up easily on the tiles, and walk to the other side of the house, stopping at the edge. I look up at the sky for a few seconds, admiring the white reflection of the moon on the backyard pool. My mom and I used to hang out a lot together on warm summer nights, on the edge of the pool, and we’d just talk of things together.

Pushing the memory away, I grab the branch of the big oak near the house, and climb it down to the solid ground. I take a deep breath and start walking behind a few neighborhood houses, following the path I’d made from walking the same way so many times before. I stop after about 3 miles, being on the outskirts of the city.

I bend down, and reach in the inside of my boot, making sure I still had my knife placed at its correct place, before doing the same with the one placed in my pocket, and the one on my belt.

“So what’s it gonna be tonight Chicago?” I challenge, looking fearlessly at the city lights. “Hopefully something good.” I smirk, before strolling to the riskier parts of the city. Whatever tonight had in store, I was ready for it. Like I always was.

 

♣○♣○♣○♣

 

The cold November air was particularly humid tonight. I didn’t like it much. My jacket clung to me like a second skin, and it wasn’t very comfortable. I could feel sweat building up in the sleeves. _Why did I wear the jacket again?_

I grimace, rolling the sleeves up a bit while I walked through yet another dark alley. These last few nights had been eventless, much to my disappointment.

I look at my watch. _Almost two in the morning... It’s getting late, even for a Friday night._

I walk through a couple other narrow alleys, and sigh regretfully. Just as I’m about to leave, I hear a dimmed speech, followed by the clear sound of a person being hit. _Bingo._

Feeling the familiar adrenalin pumping through my veins, I follow the sound through different pathways, as quiet as a cat. I come across a group of three men. Crouching behind a nearby giant garbage bin, I observe the scene silently. It looked like the bald guy, was being menaced by the very broad-shouldered brunette, while the man with bleached hair just looked at the scene carefully, hands in his jacket’s pockets casually.

“We told you Max. You had to bring the fucking money by Friday!” The British accent booming out of the brunette makes him ten times scarier.

“Well I-I-I―” The bald man, Max, stutters.

“Liam.”

It’s as if the blonde one gave a signal, and a couple punches we’re thrown in the man’s face. The whines of pain sicken me. I’m about to stop the two men, when the brunette, Liam, suddenly stops. Tensely, I stay poised at my place.

“You have absolutely no valuable reason.” The blonde shrugs. His accent is almost like his partner’s but not quite... _Maybe those two are the ones that have been causing such mayhem in Chicago these last days... They’re obviously not from here._

 “Y-y-you didn’t give me enough t-t-time!” Max stutters, coughing up blood.

“Two weeks was more than enough you fucking bastard.”

“Niall I’m sorry but―” The man gets kicked in the chest. I’m about to leap in any second now.

“My name has absolutely no reason to come out of your filthy mouth. And I don’t give a shit about your sorry excuses. They won’t give me my money back.” The blonde one seethes. “But maybe your head on a plate will?”

I shudder as Niall suddenly pulls out a gun from his leather jacket, pointing it at the man’s head.

“Please no I―”

“Leave him alone.” I speak fearlessly, stepping out of behind the bin.

The three heads spin in my direction.

“Get away from him.” I repeat again, trying to sound as menacing as possible.

 Niall chuckles.

“Well well you’re a sneaky little thing.”

“Niall should I―”

The blonde stops Liam from advancing towards me with a shake of his head, before gazing at me.

“Why don’t you mind your own business Cupcake hmm? It’s quite late for a delicate flower like you to be strolling around in dark alleys,” Niall coos, keeping the gun pointed at Max’s head.

“Don’t call me Cupcake.” I say between clenched teeth, balling my hands into tight fists. “Leave that man alone.” I repeat. “He deserves to live.”

“No.”

My blood freezes in my veins as he pulls the trigger, my heart beating madly in my chest at the deafening sound. I watch without flinching, as Max’s dead body drops to the ground.

“See what you made me do?” Niall reprimands, placing his weapon back into his jacket. “Oh well.” He shrugs. “Aren’t you gonna go Cupcake? I just killed a man. I’m dangerous.” He eyes me up and down, his look calculative.

“I’m dangerous too. And I told you not to call me Cupcake!” I hiss, before tackling him. I’ve had more than enough with his pleasantries.

We both fall on the concrete ground, but somehow I’m the one who gets her back smashed into the asphalt. Quickly ridding myself of my surprised state, I start tapping into my self-defense knowledge, and succeed into making him topple under me.

Out of the blue, Liam fist collides with my stomach, and I fall onto the ground, momentarily breathless.

“Are you done yet?” Niall chuckles, standing up and dusting himself off as if nothing had just happened.

“No.”

My leg swiftly crooks under his, making him topple to the ground. Liam grabs my shoulder, but I easily shove him off, using his weight and strength against him as I threw him to the ground.

Niall uses my moment of distraction and locks my right arm painfully behind my back, kicking in the behind of my knees so I’m kneeling on the floor.

“What about now?”

“Still n―”

I’m not even finished saying my sentence that he rapidly sends my three years of martial arts in the gutter, pressing my face onto the ground while Liam held the rest of my body down.

I groan, feeling Niall’s knee pressing deep into my back.

“You’re cute.” Niall whispers in my ear.

“Fuck you.” I snap, tasting the slight copper of blood inside my mouth.

“And you’re dirty mouthed. What else are you not showing?” Niall laughs.

“The fact that I could kick your ass easily if you had been alone.” I seethe.

“Hmm weird I doubt that. But you’ll have plenty of chances to prove it alright?  Because I know losing sucks and all...I’ve decided to keep you, and give you the chance to prove yourself as many times as you want.” He says it like it’s a great idea.

“I’ll pass.” I bite back.

“Unfortunately for you, it wasn’t an option.”

I struggle underneath the boys’ weights, making Niall’s hands tighten painfully around my biceps. Ignoring the pain, I keep writhing, trying to get at least one of them off me.

“You’re one perseverant lass aren’t you?”

I start squirming more vigorously not wanting to give him a verbal reply.

 “Of course you are.” He laughs. “This is perfect... So, love, since you’re so keen on fighting me off, I have a challenge for you ... Liam can you pass me that?”

There’s a short pause.

“You sure about this?”

 “Yeah. Here Cupcake try resisting to this.”

A damp rag is pressed against my mouth, and I immediately identify the substance. Chloroform. I stop breathing.

“The longer you wait to inhale, the longer you’ll be passed out.” The blonde sing songs from over me.

“What exactly are you planning on doing with her?” Liam enquires.

“Keep her to myself. I can think of a few things she could be a good use of...” Niall trails on. “Ain’t that right cupcake? You’ll be able to help me with all my little problems, won’t you?” The blonde continues, caressing the top of my head.

“Never.” I gasp.

“And you just made the dumb mistake of breathing. Oh well. We’ll just have to work harder on your weak feminine brain then won’t we?”

“I’ll fucking kill you,” I mumble tiredly, feeling the chloroform clouding my senses.

“We’ll see. Sweet dreams Cupcake.”

I want to scream out in rage as darkness starts wrapping me into a tight envelop of nothingness.


	2. Weakness

I wake up gradually, the strong urge to throw up making me groan as I do so. Taking a deep breath, I repress the nauseous feeling, and open my eyes cautiously, evaluating my surroundings. There’s a regular door in front of me, the floor looks like concrete and judging by the lack of furniture and absence of windows, I’m in a basement. I look down at myself. I’m sat on a regular wooden chair; my wrists are tied behind my back and my ankles to the chair’s legs.

I struggle a bit, trying to evaluate how much loose I had between the bindings and my skin. Not much. I try releasing my hands, but fail, only making the wooden chair squeak. _So the chair isn’t very resistant...._

I swiftly throw all my weight sideways, making my body and the chair plunge to the ground. I shut my eyes and turn my head to the side, the frail piece of furniture shattering with a deafening crack under me.

I sigh decisively, wriggling my ankles out of the ropes that used to be tied to the chair’s legs.

My hands still tightly tied behind my back, I push myself up to a sitting position, wincing as a small shard of wood lightly enters my palm. Ignoring the pain, I try shaking my hands out of the coarse rope, striving to loosen them as much as possible.

After a couple seconds of unsuccessful twisting and turning my wrists, I manage to grab a bigger wooden shard from the ground, and attempt to use it to cut the rope.

I freeze as the door in front of me opens, revealing the blonde haired boy who kidnapped me. Niall.

“So how was your sleep, love?” he asks, turning around to face me. “Not too uncomfortable I―” He stops midway through his sentence, staring at the remainants of the chair encircling me. “Hope?” He ends, a little speechless.

“Oh just enough.” I smile sarcastically. “But now you got my comfort covered, would you care to untie me, so I can beat the fuck out of you fairly and head back home?”

He cocks his eyebrow upwards.

“Cupcake you’re not heading home that fast.”

“Yeah I am. As soon as you untie me, I’ll be gone.” I snap.

“Well then I won’t untie you now won’t I?” He gives me a pleasant smile. “Was it really necessary though to break the chair? It had some sentimental value.”

“Like what? You killed a person on that chair?” I mutter acerbically.

“Ehh more than one.” He admits.

“You’re sick.” I grimace, horrified.

“Maybe.” He shrugs, walking towards me. Without warning, Niall violently shoves me backwards.

My hands still being tied behind my back, I can’t catch myself, or even slow my fall. My head ends up smashing itself on the ground. Whining, I bite my lip in pain but I don’t cry. Crying is for the weak.

“Oh by the way I don’t appreciate people insulting me.” Niall continues with a smile. “It tends to irritate me quickly. Just thought I’d let you know since we’re going to be spending quite a lot of time together.”

“Duly noted. I’m so glad you decided to tell me that very valuable piece of information, after you crushed my head into a concrete floor.” I grumble, my head throbbing painfully.

He chuckles.

“You’re a keeper that’s for sure. You’re different. You won’t give up on fighting after the first few weeks, oppositely to many other girls. You’re feisty and it’s exactly that kind of girl I want. One who knows how to fight.”

As soon as I feel his warm hands wrapping themselves around my ankles, I start moving violently. Next thing I know, I’m being dragged out of the room, face facing the floor as Niall tugs me down a hallway as if I were a rag doll, having no care whatsoever if my skull hit the corner of a wall every now and then.

“Don’t worry; you’re only towing a human being.” I tell him hatefully, squirming as I fight to get him to let go of me.

“Shut up.” He responds emotionlessly, making me hit yet another wall. _Bastard._

The flooring changes underneath me as Niall takes me to another room. It seems similar to the previous one, except I’m guessing there’s a window somewhere since it’s lighter inside.

“Since you broke the other chair, you’re going to have to sit in a less comfortable one okay?” The blonde coos, before letting go of my legs. The second his hands leave my skin, I flip myself over and onto my back, and I kick him in the tibias, being too small to reach higher.

Anger passes though his features, but he covers it up quickly with a fake smile.

“C’mon cupcake let’s get you under control, shall we?”

Without waiting for an answer, he grabs a fistful of my hair and makes me rise to my feet forcefully.

“Let go!” I spit.

“You do know that all this, this rebellious attitude, just makes me want you more?” He says, throwing me on his shoulder like a weightless sack of potatoes. I thrash around as much as I can, but a few seconds later, I’m dropped on a hard surface. I feel a little woozy as my back is pushed against a rigid, vertical platform, my head hitting it once again.

“Could you stop smashing my head into everything?” I demand, trying to sound as threatening as possible.

“Will you lose the attitude around me if I do?” He counters.

“No.”

“You just answered your own question then.”

What seems like a belt, a very large one, is wrapped across my torso and behind the seat, immobilizing my upper body completely. _Well struggling is completely useless now. It’ll only end up tiring me before I actually get away._

“The beautiful thing about this chair is that it’s an iron one, and it’s actually nailed to the ground so can’t really throw yourself off.” Niall points out, before sitting behind the desk I placed in front of me.

I try doing what I’d done with the wooden chair and indeed, it doesn’t budge.

“Now let’s talk.” Niall starts, stretching his limbs.

“Do I have to listen?” I retort.

“Well let me put it this way. I hate repeating myself. I won’t warn you about consequences if you end up angering me.” Niall says carefully, leaning forwards on his chair.

“You don’t even warn me then.” I mutter.

He makes a deceived sound, before he kicks me hard under the table.

“What the fuck!” I yell, searing pain enflaming my lower right leg.

“Quit your whining. I owed you that anyways. So now that you’re alert and all, I just want to let you know that I know pretty much everything about you.”

“Do you really?” I reply cynically.

“Your name is Brooke Sarah Evans, your mother died of terminal cancer, you birthday is on December 11th, you are 18 years old, you’re 5 foot 5, you weigh about 130 pounds. Your father works at a mailing company, under the name of William Evans when his name is really Mathew Evans. When you we’re younger, you got into a lot of fights at school since you had learned almost all the martial arts possible, in about three years time.”

“Wai―”

“I’m not done Cupcake. Your favourite color is teal, but you also really love burgundy. You’re Sagittarius. You have very few friends because you have difficulty trusting people and last but not least, you love spaghetti. Do I know you? You tell me.” He smirks, sitting back in his chair.

“Who the fuck are you?” I ask, incredulous.

“Babe, I’m Niall Horan.” He smiles.

“Where did you get all this information, Niall Horan? You’re not even from here. You’re British or something similar.”

“I’m Irish love, know your accents. But as on the how I got my information, my mate Louis is very good when it comes to finding people. He can find pretty much everything about a person just by scanning a picture.”

“You didn’t have a picture of me. I just met you.”

“You carried identity cards with you. I took the liberty of taking them from you while you were sleeping, and handing them over to him.”

“You little―”

“Be very careful saying your next words.” He advises.

I bite my lip, restraining the very colorful series of words that were about to pour out.

“I hate you.” I fume finally.

“Aww you’re cute.... But I don’t care. You’ll learn to see things my way, and maybe then you’ll stop hating me.”

“Never.”

“You don’t know that. You shouldn’t be so stubborn. It’s not good for one’s health when around me.”

“Well sorry, it’s part of my nature.” I snap.

“I know that. But I can try to lessen it a bit.” He huffs, looking at me with an intense glare.

“Why’d you take me, if you knew I was hard to manage? Even my father can’t have power over me.”

“People who go for the easy prey are weak.”

“So basically you’re calling yourself weak, talking of me like I’m a defenceless animal!”

“Cupcake you didn’t let me finish.” He chuckles. “You’re the big game. You’re not gonna be easy to drag on my side but I’ve always loved the thrill of a challenge. Plus, you’re a really pretty girl. You’re honestly gonna be of use to me in more ways than one. I seriously lack of female companionship, all the people working for me being men.”

“Why take me? Of all the female people? Use a fucking prostitute if you’re so keen on getting laid.”

“Really Brooke I had no idea I’d be kidnapping someone until you appeared in the alley just before I killed Max. I think the fact that you stood there without flinching when I killed him made me think that a girl could be useful in some situations. Liam and I both noticed Max had difficulty taking his eyes off you when you appeared out of thin air. You see, we gang people don’t see many girls that aren’t submissive. And it’s rather _arousing_ when we do see one. So I thought maybe I could use you for two reasons. A, my personal desires, and B, as a distraction to the opposing gang.”

“You’re insane to think I’ll actually let myself get controlled by a cocky, fucking little prick.” I reply angrily.

“That’s exactly why I’ll have to shape you up a bit.” Niall’s voice takes a harder edge. “You’re too mouthy at the wrong times, you have difficulty fighting more than one person at a time and your anger often blinds you, therefore reduces your ability to think clearly. I’m not gonna be all cliché and say I love your innocence and it draws me in and shit, because innoncent does not fit your description at all. No what I like about you, is that you are exactly like me.” The blonde ends, standing right in front of me.

“I am far from being like you!” I seethe, squirming in my seat as his proximity made me uneasy.

“Oh really cupcake? I’m pretty damn certain you’ve seen and done things not everybody would do or see, and I’m sure you’ve killed people just like I have.”

“I didn’t kill anybody!”

“We’ll if you haven’t, you will sooner or later.” He starts caressing my cheek but I move my face away brusquley. He chuckles, circling around me once before stopping behind me. “There will be blood on your hands before you even realise it sweetcheets. It’ll all depend on the wiseness of your decisions.” He murmurs in my ear, sending tingles down my spine. “Maybe you’ll end up killing you’re own father.”

“I’d never do that.” I whisper, sickened. Niall walks back infront of my, squatting dwon so we’re face to face.

“Your choices might. So I strongly suggest you start respecting me a little more, or your father will end up joining your mother.”

“But then if you do kill him, you’ll have nothing against me.” I say bravely.

“There will be your friends.”

“And then?” I press.

_How far is he actually willing to take this? I can go on forever._

He cocks his head sideways, obviously not thinking I was going to push it that far.

“You really do hate passing for someone with a weakness, don’t you?” He frowns, standing up. “Maybe that’s your vulnerability. The thought of having a weak spot scares you, therefore makes you weak. Hmm. Interesting.” Niall continues, turning his back to me.

“Fuck you!” I shout heatedly.

He turns back around brusquely, his eyes like blazing ice.

“How stupid are you? You’re the one tied up in a chair right now. You’re the one’s that’s fucked.” He storms. The Irish boy stops walking, abrubtly. “You know what? I think I’ll spread your legs a bit yeah?” He walks over to me, bending down and strapping each of my calves to the chair’s legs. He pulls out a small knife from his pocket, and cuts my jeans open between my thighs.

“Niall no.” I shake my head, suddenly very terrified of the blonde. The cold air ghosts over my exposed skin and goosebumps rise all over my arms and legs. “Niall.”

“Apparently physical torture doesn’t do much to you. I’d hit you as many times as I could, but your attitude wouldn’t change much.”

“Niall pl―”

“But I doubt you’ve ever experienced sexual torture. Let’s see how long it takes you until you beg for mercy when you’re highly overstimulated okay? Then maybe you’ll think twice about saying ‘fuck you’ to your superior.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Please leave a comment! They make me happy! Also... Should this fanfic be highly sexual, moderate sexual, or just a little?


	3. Psycho

“Apparently physical torture doesn’t do much to you. I’d hit you as many times as I could, but your attitude wouldn’t change much.”

“Niall pl―”

“But I doubt you’ve ever experienced sexual torture. Let’s see how long it takes you until you beg for mercy when you’re highly overstimulated okay? Then maybe you’ll think twice about saying ‘fuck you’ to your superior.”

Niall takes a step backward, his hands moving to unzip his pants.

“Niall don’t!” I shout, squirming as I try to get one of my bindings to split open. There was no way I was letting this sicko use me in such a gruesome way. “Niall don’t you dare touch me like that!” I yell again, gathering some courage.

The blonde smirks.

“Why shouldn’t I hmm? Why shouldn’t I when I’ve got you all tied up and helpless?” he advances towards me, clutching my chin tightly between his fingers.

 I stop moving, momentarily mezmerised by his frosty blue eyes.

 “Give me a good reason Brooke. Why shouldn’t I seize the opputrtunity and take advantage of you? Why shouldn’t I make you suffer the consequences of having a dirty little mouth?” He presses, everything about his features daring me to answer him coarsely.

I stare at him calmly.

“C’mon I’m listening to you cupcake.” He snaps. “You’re lucky I even give you the chance to explain yourself.”

“It’d make you the weak one.” I seethe finally. “You said it yourself. Right now, I’m the easy prey. The wounded gazelle. And your just the lazy lion who decides to feast without the adrenaline-filled chase.”

He cocks his eyebrow upwards, a small smile tugging on the sides of his mouth.  “So you do listen when I talk?”

“Maybe.” I mumble, looking away.

“Jesus you’re fun,” he chuckles, shaking his head in disbelief. “You’ll be so great by the time I’m done converting you... I have chills thinking about it,” Niall sighs, marvelling at me.

“That is, if you suceed.” I respond angrily.

“Trust me, I will.”

His hands drop down to his pants once more, and this time he unzips them completely, exposing his boxers.

“What are you doing?” I ask carefully, my eyes locked on him.

“Cupcake you don’t think I’ll let your little impoliteness slip up without consequences now do you? That’d just stain my fairly clean reputation.” The blonde shrugs, cracking his fingers.  Niall approches me predatorily, trousers handging low on his hips.

 I fight to stay calm and composed but I start fighting against my restraints once more as his fingers start tracing circles on the exposed part of my thighs.

 “Don’t touch me like that. Hit me instead.” I demand, sickened.

“I told you a couple minutes ago. Hitting you doesn’t seem to get the message across. At least if I fuck you, I know you’ll learn your place.” Niall denies, walking around me.

“Choke me, torture me, do anything  I don’t care just don’t touch me down _there_.” I plea, squirming once more. “Niall!” I shout, more furious than frightened.

“Stop whining or I might just do all three.” He warns brusquely.

I shoot him a hateful look and he counters it with a cynical smile.

“Don’t look at me like that. I’m not a nice guy Brooke.” He points out, walking in front of me. “I’m dangerous. Don’t think your pleas will make me pity you.” he pauses, his face now an inch away from mine. “They actually increase my derision for your despicable attitude because I know you’re not the type to beg. Stop trying to make me think you’re weak, I know you are not when it comes to physical problems. I don’t know yet about emotional―”

“I’m not weak, whether it concerns physical, emotional, psychological or any kind of dilemna.” I reply angrily. “You’re the one that’s weak here. You’re the one that’s not up for a challenge. You’re the one that’s not man enough to untie me and try to take me for real. You―”

He slaps me hard, my head swerving to the right at the contact. The coppery taste of blood stains my mouth and I grimace faintly.

“You done here cupcake? I’m getting real tired.” Niall says calmly, walking behind the chair and out of my line of vision.

I feel my blood pumping heatedly.

“No! I’m not―” A cloth is shoved inside my mouth harshly, and Niall ties it roughly behind my head

“Yes. You are.” The Irish boy orders, walking in front of me.

My eyes drift the length of his now shirtless torso with hatred as I realise his shirt has become the gag restraining my ability to speak.

“I said stop looking at me like that. I could’ve easily shoved something else in your mouth to shut your incessant yammering.” He states, pressing his thumb and index on his forehead.

I want to kill him. He’s a complete arse. _Why does he have to be so hot though?_ The thought passing through my mind makes my skin burn. Even more angered, I start shouting furiously through the shirt, coming out as a couple muffled noises.

“Shut it will you? I’m trying to think of what’ll make you a little more obedient.” He huffs.

Seeing red, I pull harshly forwards in my seat, only to hear some material rip. I scream in dissatisfaction against the gag and tug again, feeling more of the fabric split. I feel the leather wrapped around my torso slowly getting weaker.

“So are you ready?” The blonde claps suddenly, oblivious to the small rupture sounds. “Oh wait that’s right. I don’t care if you aren’t.” He smirks before bestriding my spreaded legs.

Our breathing mingles and I wince at his closeness, wanting badly to smash my head into his to make him back off a bit. Pushing the urge away, I focus on giving little yanks on my restraints, trying to loosen the bindings even more.

“I like foreplay. A lot.” Niall mumbles raspily. He starts kissing my neck passionately, his hands wandering below my waist and between my bare thighs. “And I love a challenge.” He continues between kisses.

I feel like throwing up.

“So you know what? I’ll give you what you want. I’ll untie your hands, your mouth and your legs... But the strap around your ribs stays alright?”

My ears perk up. _Jesus I might get out of this._

“But that is only if you kiss me Cupcke. A good kiss at that.”

_Damn I knew it was too good to be true._

He takes the shirt out of my mouth, throwing it carelessly somewhere in the room. I breath in and out from the mouth slowly, appreciating the good functioning of my two breathing canals.

“So whatdaya say Brooke?” He enquires, his gaze locked with mine.

“I’ll pass.” I reply dryly.

“You sure love? You’d miss the chance to fight back against me, for the price of a very simple kiss?” He chuckles. He nuzzles in my neck. “What do you have to lose really? You’re going to get something much worse anyways...” He whispers, biting my earlobe softly. “Something running along those lines,” He adds, his fingers still probing around my sensitive lower regions.

I find myself weighing my options half-heartedly. _I have better chances to escape if I kiss him. I’d only have to undo one strap, and it’s already half-ripped without him being aware of it. C’mon Brooke. One kiss. You can do it._

“Fine.” I give in.

“Good.”

His lips join mine without hesitation, and I have no other choice but to go with it. It starts out a little weird and awkward, but to my strong displeasure, Niall effortlessly starts controlling it, making it more passionate and realistic. I feel nauseous as he shoves his tongue inside my mouth, claiming power over me. It gets worse as the blonde begins rolling his hips eagerly into mine, his bulge getting more prominent by the second.

I groan in discomfort on his lips and move my head away, trying to get him to stop.

“Oh right. I need to untie you now.” Niall chuckles, pulling backwards.

I stay immobile and gather up all my energy as he easily undoes what held my hands and legs to the chair.

As soon as my wrists are libertated, I hit his chest hard, aiming to get his weight off my aching legs. It’s almost as if he’d read my mind though as his grips both my fists without difficulty in his hands, squeezing painfully.

“I find it quite practical you don’t know all the martial arts, oppositely to me.” He boasts. “And because of Louis researches, I know exactly which ones to use in order to overpower you. It’s good to know your opponents weakness... keep that in note somewhere in that stubborn little head of yours.” He breathes, leaning in to harass me with his mouth once more.

“Maybe I don’t know them all, but I know enough.” I spew.

Using my feet to give me more strength, I propulse myself forwards, tilting my shoulders to the side in order to make Niall fall off. As I do so, the restraint around my torso tears off loudly and Niall falls to the ground, taken aback for mere seconds.

Wasting absolutely no time, I start running. I have absolutely no idea where to go, but I start running out the door and through different corridors.

“Brooke come back right now!” Niall yells angrily.

_As if you expect me to do so._

Ignoring Niall completely, I run up some stairs, knowing very well I had to get out of the part of the house that was below ground-surface. The stairs finish with a door. Deliberating quickly, I take a deep breath before sending my foot right into the wooden door, smashing it into pieces.

Jumping over the broken shards, I resume my run, looking around as I try to thinking of a way out hastily but smartly.

“Brooke!!!”

I look behind me briefly, only to bump into a solid surface. I look up to see a person with a shock of feathered brown hair, slightly covering cool blue eyes. _Damn he’s gorgeous too._

Before I can move away from him, he easily grabs me and immobilizes me between his arms and chest.

“Niall I got her.” The guy huffs, almost as if he was talking to himself. “On the floor?” Brown-haired boy looks at me and frowns. Without warning, he makes me fall to the ground and uses his full body weight to hold me down. “Yes she’s on the floor now.” He sighs, apparently still talking to himself. “Yes I’m―”

“Let go of me!” I urge, punching his chest, trying to maneuver my way out of his grip.

“Would you mind? I’m talking.” He snaps.

_Jesus is every boy here completely psycho or?_

Without dwelling on the thought too much, I try twisting myself again to flip our positions around but the guys stays firmly placed over me.

“Niall are you coming yet? I have better things to do than take care of her right now.” He exhales, showing no sign of struggle whatsoever.

“Yeah I’m here.”

I shut my eyes tightly hearing his voice.

“Thanks Louis.” Niall continues, his fingers wrapping roughly around my arm as he hoists me up carelessly.

_Oh so the brown-haired boy is Louis._

“I might require something from you Lou... A microchip for Brooke. Think you can do that for me?”

_A microchip? What the fuck?!_

“Yeah it should be ready in two days if Zayn can get me the stuff.” The brown-haired boy shrugs, scratching the back of his head. I notice he has a little device around his ear. _Maybe that’s how he and Niall we’re communicating? Where’s Niall’s then?_

“Thanks.” Niall nods, before looking at me. “So was your little adventure fun?” Niall mocks, tugging me away from Louis.

I take in that he’s still shirtless, his erection almost gone, but still there.

“I hope it was because what’s coming up won’t be. At all.”


	4. Cheeky Comments

“I might require something from you Lou... A microchip for Brooke. Think you can do that for me?”

_A microchip? What the fuck?!_

“Yeah it should be ready in two days if Zayn can get me the stuff.” The brown-haired boy shrugs, scratching the back of his head. I notice he has a little device around his ear. _Maybe that’s how he and Niall we’re communicating? Where’s Niall’s then?_

“Thanks.” Niall nods, before looking at me. “So was your little adventure fun?” Niall mocks, tugging me away from Louis. “I hope it was worth it because what’s coming up won’t be fun. At all.” He seethes, grasping my bicep between his fingers.

I take in that he’s still shirtless, his erection almost gone, but still there. I fight him off as he tows me back down the stairs.

“Let go! Your cutting off my blood circulation you bastard!” I protest, ignoring him completely. His grips tightens even more, but I show no evident sign of pain. “Want me to repeat what I just said in another language?! Jesus Niall let go! I’m going to lose my arm!”

“A, you don’t speak any other language, Louis assured me of that, and B, it could be a godamn good thing if you lost your arm if it meant you’d stop screeching like a wild animal.”

“Well since it annoys you so much... AHHHHHHHHHHHHHH!” I scream at the top of my lungs. My ears are ringing at my own yelling, but I keep going, trying to elevate the decibels of my voice as much as possible. _Maybe the neighbors will hear... If there are some that is._

“GOD DAMMIT SHUT THE FUCK UP!” Niall bellows, letting go of my arm momentarily to cover his ears.

As soon as the contact ends, I start running only to fall frontwards. I turn around to see that Niall had grabbed my ankle as I tried to run.

“Liam, join me downstairs. ” The blonde huffs to nobody. He pulls me up to him in a standing postion. “You’re going to get it Cupcake... Just you wait.” The Irish boy whispers menacingly in my ear, towing me back to the basement.

“That’s practically all I’ve been doing.” I reply between clenched teeth, trying to squirm my way out of his grasp once more.

“Shut the fuck up. I’m tired of your yammering.” He orders, holding my hands behind my back painfully as he walks me down the stairs forcefully. “Liam I’m in room 1E.” Niall continues to nobody, pushing me into the first room he sees. “Get on your knees Cupcake.” He adds to my intention, shoving me violently to the cement ground.

I stand straight and look up at him, unflinching.

“Or what?”

“Don’t. Test. Me.”

“You keep threatening me, boy, but you’ve never done anything to make me regret my actions. You are such a sore gang leader.” I sneer daringly. “No wonder that guy in the alley didn’t obey you! I wonder why he was even scared of you!”

“Niall?” Liam, the brown-haired boy from last night, makes an appreance in the doorframe. “You asked for me?”

“Hold her.” The blue-eyed boy instructs, nodding in my direction. “I want her kneeling on the floor. Now.”

Before I can even try to avoid Liam, he’s on me, pressing me to the ground.

“Get off! You’re fucking heavy!” I writhe, trying to keep my cool. _There was something awfully intimidating about Liam... Something that just made me forget every self-defense class I’d had._

I sigh as his weight lifts, but start struggling agin as he raises me up on my knees, grabs my arms and pulls them backwards. I grimace when I feel him pressing his knee in the center of my back, immobilizing most of my torso.

“You’re a stupid girl Brooke. Like really stupid.” Niall says lowly, moving predatorily around me. He takes a deep breath. “I’m telling you right away, getting cocky, mouthy, trying to run away and act brave with me won’t do you any good. Like I said, it’s exceedingly foolish.”

“Because trying to defend myself from someone who obviously doesn’t want me any good is stupid? I don’t think I’m the stupid one here.” I retort.

“Well then it’s a good thing stupid people tend to learn from their mistakes.”

Next thing I know, Liam isn’t holding me anymore and Niall is smashing my face into the floor. Blood starts pouring out of my nose as Liam holds me back up to face my assaillant. I can’t help the tears from pooling into my eyes. Niall pulls my head backwards.

“You still think I’m a sore gang leader?” He scoffs.

“Yes. And I hate you.” I mutter, fighting back the tears while the blood ushering out of my nose trickled in my mouth. _I’m going to have a freaking heache after being slammed this many times into concrete._

“We’ll you’re going to hate me even more. I won’t tolerate your attitude. Save it for the others because I’ll be having none of it. And I’ll make sure to let you know that.” Niall continues, unzipping his trousers.

I fight against Liam’s tight grasp as the blonde walks over to a closet, and pulls out something peculiar.

“Know what that is?” he enquires, dangling it in front of my face.

I look carefully at the two peices of leather tied to a small fist-sized ring, before gazing up at him, perplexed.

“This, innoncent little Brooke, is a gag. Cupcake I can promise you that tomorrow, you’ll have a sore throat. Hopefully next time you’ll think before you speak.” The Irish boy explains, advancing towards me. “And this time you can’t say I’m being weak for abusing you, because Liam’ll be holding you the whole time I’m shoving my cock down the pretty throat of yours. You’ll have the chance to fight against him if you feel like it.” He sighs contentedly. “So go ahead. Do something. Defend yourself. Try persuading me not to punish me. _Say_ something cheeky. Anything.”

I shut my lips tightly, knowing he’d place the filthy ring inside my mouth if I dared to open it. _There’s no way I’m letting him put that inside my mouth._

“Oh so you have nothing to say now?” The blonde mocks, gripping my chin firmly between his fingers. “Not even a little insult to tell me how mean I am?”

I keep my eyes locked on his, looking at him fiercely.

“So now you understand? Oh well I’m sorry I’m not changing my mind about this. Open that dirty mouth of yours, Cupcake.”

I keep my lips sealed.

“Now.”

His fingers start digging painfully into either side of my chin, crushing my jawbone until I finally give in. He shoves the metallic ring inside swiftly, forcing my mouth to stay streched open and gaping. It hurt like hell, and I felt like my jaw was about to unhinge itself from the rest of my skull at any moment.

“And now that I’ve got you all set...”

He removes his trousers completely, standing only in his boxers. I shudder, and turn my face away, feeling more blood trickling down from my nose and onto the floor.

“Brooke look at me.” Niall orders. “You need to understand. You don’t disobey me or you suffer the consequences.” His fingers tangle into my messy hair. “Are you going to look at me or am I going to have to force you?”

I keep looking down, more blood dripping on the cement floor. I shut my eyes tightly as I sense him turning my face around. Next thing I know, he’s thrusting forwards harshly and his hot member invades my mouth. I feel like vomiting all over him, the veins alongside his erect cock touching the top of my mouth at every single coming and going.

I gag when his member touches the back of my thoat, tears blurring my vision.

“If you thow up on me, I swear you’ll lose your virginity tonight,” Niall seethes, voice raspy as he keeps ramming his dick in and out of my mouth rapidly.

The friction bruning, my throat, I whine and struggle against Liam’s grip, only to feel the latter’s fingers pushing deeper into my arms.

“God Brooke flatten your tongue,” The blonde groans, his grip on my hair tightening.

I ignore him.

“Now.” He urges, brusquely halting his movements.

My mouth feeling too full, I tune him out completely, focused on trying to breath though my nose.

“Liam.” He snaps.

The boy behind me steps on my calf and I scream, the sound muffled by Niall’s cock. The blood and the tears on my fix mix and I find myself obliged to comply to the Irish boy’s demands, Liam’s weight on my leg feeling like I’ve just cut if off without any analgetic substance whatsoever.

“Good girl.” The blue-eyed boy purrs, moaning as he slowly resumes thrusting.

After a few seconds, he makes a pained sound, and pulls my face even closer to his pelvic area, before emptying himself down the back of my throat. He had shoved himself so deep, the slimy, foul-tasting cum slid right down easily. Taking a deep, satisfied breath, he takes off the gag and smiles at me.

“You should thank me... I’ve just made you a more resilient person.”

“I’m not going to thank you.” I defy, voice hoarse. He places his index under my chin, forcing me to look into his icy blue orbs.

“Yes, you are. Every single time I’m going to do something to you, you’re going to thank me for making you a stronger person. You’re going to thank me, for keeping you alive.”

“No.”

In my weakened state, Liam easily twists one of my arms around. I shout in pain.

“He’s going to break your arm Brooke. Thank. Me.” Niall repeats menacingly.

My breathing is ragged, my thoughts running wild but I stay silent. Niall’s patience runs thin.

“Li―”

“Fine fine!” I yell. “Thank you Niall.” I gasp. “Thank you for making me a stronger person.” I continue, torn.

“Wasn’t that hard.”

The blonde clutches my right arm while Liam keeps a hold of my left one, and they tug me out of the room, leading me to the the one just beside.

The small area was rather empty, with absolutely nothing apart from a bed that looked like it was infested with insects, and a lone shackle tied to the wall beside the bed. My skin crawls at the thought of being the person who had to sleep there.

“Liam, you can go... Thanks a lot mate.” Niall acknowledges, pushing me farther inside the room.

“No problem.” He nods.

Suddenly, both of them freeze. They frown and look at each other. Liam leaves swiftly before Niall starts talking to nobody again.

“Yeah Liam’s joining you, I’ll be there in a few Zayn... I have to make sure the rookie’ll stay the night.” He says, talking in his wrist.

I squint, trying to see to how he could be talking to another person. _He doesn’t even have a watch on! How can he communicate with someone?_

“The rookie? Seriously?” I snap, the nickname making me sick. _I’m no rookie._

“I told you I’d be making you one of us.” He shrugs.

“But calling me the rookie? Makes me sound like a lost puppy or something!”

“Yeah the rookie. It’s either that or my slut.” He ends, his tone leaving no place for arguing. He unexpectedly pushes me on the bed and reaches over for the shackle, locking my right arm. “Night.” He adds, before leaving the room.

“Wait what?!” I protest, trying to squeeze my wrist out of the rusted shackle. “No Niall!” I shout, pulling. The chain is too thick for it to be broken easily. “You can’t let me sleep he―” I cough, my throat sore from its previous abuse.

“Oh yes I can!” He yells back.

“Niall!”

“Better sleep Cupcake! Big day tomorrow!”

“Niall!”

This time he doesn’t reply and I drop to the ground slowly, taking deep breaths. _I have to get out._


	5. Phone Calls

“Niall!”

This time he doesn’t reply. I drop to the ground slowly, taking deep breaths. _I have to get out._

Keeping myself together, I start working on the shackle on my wrist, trying to remove it. Rotating my hand multiple times, I manage to move it forwards painfully, the metal making the thin skin on my hand rip. Pebbles of blood appear.

“C’mon Brooke,” I tell myself, pushing away the pain.

Biting my lip, I pull the shackle forwards again, joining my fingers together to make my hand as small as possible. It slides a couple milimeters down, leaving a trail of red on my hand. Trying to make the metal binding slicker, I use my spit and mix it with the blood, spreading the subtance everywhere I could before pulling the shackle again.

“Oww...” I whine as the rusted metal tears at my skin some more, but I keep pushing it downwards, twiting and turning it. I stop briefly and take a deeep breath, looking down at my bloodied hand. _Almost there._ Holding my breath, I give another harsh tug downwards. The shackle falls off.

Sighing shakily, I clutch my wounded hand to my chest, certainly staining my shirt with blood. I stay like that for about five minutes, waiting for the ache to numb.

Once it’s only a dull throbbing, I stand up and walk to the door carefully, turning the handle softly with my left hand. It’s locked. _Obviously. And I can’t bust the door down, I’ll attract way to much attention._

I groan. My only solution is to wait until tomorrow morning. _God dammit._

Angrily, I kick the wall beside me.

A brick falls out with a quiet thud, and a small breeze of fresh air invades my cell. Frowning, I crouch to the ground, looking at the hole I just created. _It leads to outside?_ Not completely certain, I stand up and thrust my foot at the whole again, aiming at another brick. It crumbles. The hole is now big enough fro my arm to pass through.

Feeling a burst of hope, I start lashing out at the wall, trying to make as less noise as possible. After about a dozen kicks, I manage to crawl through the cavity and outside. When I stand up again, I realize I’m behind the house, the street right in front of me. I silently thank the house for not having any backyard. _And good thing I wasn’t in the front, Niall would’ve seen me right away._

I whimper when I look at the gap in the wall I just made. _I can’t leave it like that._ _I’m going to have to cover this up a little bit to confuse Niall on how I actually got out..._ Reaching back inside my small cell, I pull out a couple of fallen bricks and stack them back in the opening, attempting to cover my escape route as much as possible and as fast as possible.

 _That’ll have to do._ I nod at the less visible hole in the wall, before looking at my surroundings to figure a way to head home. _The sun rises from the east, and sets at the west..._

I look at the sky to see where is it’s lightest part. To my left. _The sun must’ve just gone down so this is the west. Let’s go north._

As I start moving forwards, the cold night air stings the open flesh on my hands and I grimace, holding it to my chest.

I’m more than halfway home when I realise I can’t go. That boy, Louis, he knows everything about me. He’ll know I went back there. Which means my father’s in danger because of me. Practically everyone who I’ve been in contact with is in danger.

“Fuck you Niall. And Fuck you Louis.” I mutter under my breath. Half-heartedly, I decide I need to go to a hotel.

 

♣○♣○♣○♣

“Oh dear God! What happened miss?”

Seeing my dishevelled state as well as my bloody hand and shirt, the Raffaello hotel’s staff all had the same reaction. Ignoring them, I asked for a room, paying with my Dad’s credit card number I had learned by heart two years ago.

“Are you sure you’re okay?”

They kept asking me the same question and I kept answering yes, just wanting to go to my room and get some sleep. But not before making a phone call.

I jump on the phone as soon as I get inside, dialing the number quickly with my left hand.

“Hey Gab?” I ask.

“Yes? Who is this? Br―?”

“Yes it’s me but no don’t say my name,” I stop her. Louis could maybe track down conversations on the phone and hearing my name could maybe trigger something... I didn’t want to take any risks.

“Why? Are you okay?”

I sigh. “Gab I need you to tell my father I’m okay, but he needs to be really careful to who he speaks. You too for that matter.”

“Okay but―”

“I can’t tell you more... The longer we speak the more you’re in danger alright? I called you because I know you can handle a little risk, but that’s all I’m willing to put your through.”

She’s silent for a few seconds.

“Okay. Be safe.”

“I will.”

I hang up immediately after, before sighing loudly.

_Hopefully I didn’t drag her into my problem. At least she knows a couple self-defense tricks too..._

I lie in my bed, not totally convinced.

_The best would be that Niall hasn’t even realised I’m missing yet. And that he’ll forget about me._

 

♣○♣○♣○♣

 

I wince as a phone rings, stirring me out of sleep. Frowning, I look at the time. Six thrity. _Who the hell calls at this time? Especially in a hotel... No it can’t be him..._

I grunt as the device keeps ringing noisily. Trying to dim the incessant sound, I place a pillow over my head and cover my ears. It doesn’t do much.

I sigh contentedly when it stops ringing, only for it to start again. Losing my patience, I answer. _Afterall, maybe it isn’t him. Maybe it’s Gabrielle,_ I try to convince myself as I reach over to the bedside table.

“Hello?” My voice comes out hoarse.

“Well hello to you too Ms. Evans.” His voice is cheerful on the other side. Too cheerful. “How are you spending your couple minutes of freedom?”

“Very well Horan until you ruined them.” I reply dryly, keeping my cool. “I’m sorry I have other things to do than listen to you.” I continue, reaching to turn off the phone.

“Cupcake you really don’t want to hang up right now.” Niall’s voice stops me.

“I don’t see why not.” I snap, ignoring my sore throat.

“You got out last night, making a dent into my plans. A small one, yet it needs to be taken care of. So here’s the new schedule.”

“Your psycho agenda is none of my concern.”

“But it is.” He chuckles darkly. “See the problem is that a couple people in the lobby are going to commit suicide... With a little bit of my help.” The Irish boy states calmly. “You come down to the lobby in less than two minutes, and I won’t force innocent citizens to kill themselves.”

“You’re bluffing,” I say, horrified.

“Oh am I?”

I hear wood scraping on the floor, followed by terrified screams on the other side of the line. My blood boils when I hear a gunshot.

“Niall what did you do!?” I gasp.

“No what did _you_ do Brooke? Because of you, a lovely lady just hanged herself at the recepetion.” He makes a tsk sound. “You’ve got two minutes starting now or more deaths will occur.”

The line goes dead. Just like my mind.

_I need to go down. I have to. But I can’t give Niall the satisfaction..._

It takes me a couple seconds to think of a solution. _I’ll call the cops on them. If I can <t stop him, they should be able to._

I rapidly dial the number.

“Hello this is an emergency!” I say hurriedly. “There’s an armed gang at the Raffaello Hotel! Come quick, they’re killing people!” I shout before hanging up, not bothering to hear their answer. My time was running out.

Running out of my room and right into the lions den, I head for the stairs and start descending them two by two, worried about the safety of the people in the hotel. _I hope the police will come by quickly though..._

After going down about eight sets of stairs, I reach the first floor and peer through the little window. Niall, Liam and another man were at the front desk, pointing guns at five people who had ropes around their necks, the ropes tied to the lights above them. One of them was to pale to be alive, and the others all had tear-stained faces. From what I could see, they were all standing on chairs. Chairs that kept them alive.

 Without thinking things through, I burst in the door. Everyone turns to look when the door shuts noisily behind me.

“There you are Cupacke, I was starting to worry.” Niall coos, his voice sickly sweet. “So people, this is the girl to whom you’ll probably lose your life to,” He explains. The grip on his gun doesn’t falter, neither does the direction of the barrel, aimed towards a young woman.

“Niall let them go.”

“I want you to answer a question first.” The blue-eyed boy counters.

“What is it?” I ask carefully.

“Who did you call barely a minute ago love?”

I freeze.

“What do you mean?”

“You know godamn well what I mean!” He shouts, the vein in his neck pulsing menacingly. He takes a deep breath. “Do not play dumb with me Brooke. I know you tried calling someone. Louis told me. I wanna know who.” Niall says calmly. _Please tell me the police will arrive soon..._

“Nobody Niall I swear.” I persist, keeping as calm as possible.

“Liam.” Niall nods.

The brunette advances towards one of the staff members, a man in his mid-thirties, and they all start shouting and crying.

“No don’t!” I plea, taking a step forwards.

But it’s too late. Liam kicks the chair and the man falls, his hands reflexively reaching over to his neck to try lessening the strangling but it’s useless.

“Niall don't!” I repeat, advancing to help the poor man.

“Don’t you fucking move.” Niall menaces, now pointing the gun at me. “Who did you call?!”

I watch with horror as the man’s life starts leaving him without me being able to do anything.

“Brooke!” The Irish boy roars.

“Niall I didn’t―”

“Harry!”

This time, the other man advances and kicks the chair of under a middle-aged woman. I whimper, going forwards to save her only to have Liam grasp my raw wrist in his hand. I scream in pain, the sound coming out choked from my tender throat.

“Brooke I want you to look at what you’re doing to other people... It’s really selfish of you,” the blonde scolds.

I stare helplessly as the woman squirms back and forth in the air in vain.

“I can go fetch other people to kill before your eyes Brooke. You just have to keep lying to my face.” Niall continues, composed. “As soon as you say the truth though, I’ll stop harming others and I’ll work on you instead.”

“Okay fine!” I give up, tears of frustration flooding my eyes. “I called the fucking cops alright? Now let them go!”

“Great. Now we can leave and get to the more important stuff planned today. Thank you for telling me the truth. Harry, take care of the rest please?”

“What?!” I fight against Liam as Harry shoves yet another chair from under the man’s feet. “But you said you wouldn’t kill more innocent people!” I shout angrily to Niall.

“Well I lied Cupcake, just like you lied to me when you said you didn’t make a call.” He shrugs. “Payback’s a bitch. C’mon Liam, we’re taking her home. Harry, make it quick please. Leave no evidence whatsoever.” Niall instructs.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for all your encouraging messages! :) Please leave a comment, they make my day and tell me that people actually do like this fic :) XX


	6. Heartless

“The cops are coming! They’ll know it isn’t normal for five people to have ‘killed’ themselves one after the other!” I tell him as more screams echo through the lobby.

“A, the cops aren’t coming sweetcheeks, Louis intercepted your call and redirected it to me, hence why I knew you we’re lying to me and B, bloody hell Brooke I know how to cover up a couple murders.” He sighs. “You just have to sprawl the bodies here and there with ropes tied around their necks or deep slits on their wrists and the authorities believe it. Easy begginner’s stuff.”  Niall explains simply. “Now come along Cupcake, you’re going to pay for your acting up.” He ends, walking through the door.

“You’re a souless bastard,” I seethe lowly as Liam drags me behind Niall.

“Guess I was wrong about you Brooke... I thought you could take it.” Niall sighs deceived, heading towards a sleek, dark car.

“Take it?! What?! You expected me to just stay there and have no reaction?!” I protest furiously.

“No. I expected you to obey so things like that don’t happen.”

“How fucked up are you?!” I spit as I’m forced in the backseat with Liam. The blonde very visibly stiffens.

“Oh you’ll see very soon just about how fucked up I can be when some people start getting on my nerves.” He threatens lowly, starting the car.

 

♣○♣○♣○♣

 

“Niall this is mortifying!” I say shakingly, feeling as if I was about to throw up any second. To say I loathed being naked was an understatement. “You can’t do this!”

“I’ve seen muliple other girls naked before love, it’s nothing to be ashamed of.”

Niall had dragged me down to the basement again and with the help of Liam, he’d undressed me me completely and handcuffed my arms behind my back.Still raw from last night’s escape, my wrists were now bleeding as I fought to get them off all while curling into a tight ball on the cold floor, trying to hide as much bare skin as I could.

“I’m not ashamed, I’m humiliated! You’re violating my privacy!” I shout, bringing my legs even closer to my chest. “This is _my_ body! Play with someone else’s!” I start crawling to the bundle of my clothes in the corner of the room but Niall stops me.

“Correction, it _was_ your body. Now it belongs to me until you learn to properly take care of it. But I’m glad you’re not thinking of the others for once.” He approves. He crouches down to look at me in the eyes. “You see that urge you have to get hurt for others...When you play superhero or I don’t know what...That’s bad.  You can’t do that. Your body shouldn’t suffer through things that it isn’t meant to be suffering through.” The blonde explains, lifting my chin up. “Now I haven’t quite figured out what to do with you just yet. Let’s see...You escaped, you called the police on me and you lied about it too...” Niall sighs, cocking his eyebrow upwards. “I think I’m going to have to fuck some obedience into you.” He declares, standing up.

“Niall no, please I’m begging you not to do this,” I hiccup despairingly, fighting against the handcuffs. “I promise I’ll stop and comply to your rules!” I continue begging, hoping he’d somehow feel merciful.

“Weird that you say that Brooke because part of the reason why I’m doing this is because you lied to my face. And there you are, doing it again. C’mon Brooke...We both know you’ll start disobeying all over again, whether I do this or not,” he smirks. “This is just going to make you think twice about your actions.”

“Fuck you! I fucking hate you! No Niall don’t touch me!” I scream as his cold fingers leave a trail of goosebumps down my lower back. “I hate you Niall!” Warm tears of fury roll down my cheeks while he lifts me up to a standing position.

“The goal of all of this isn’t to make you love me. It never was. You’re only here to obey me.” He whispers in my ear, his hands sliding along the sides of my body. I shudder.

“Niall don’t do this!” I say once more, struggling in his arms. I feel blood trickling down my hands from the force I was applying on the handcuffs. “Niall!”

“I have to Cupcake.” He says simply. “You can’t defy my authority without ending up punished. Ever.” I hear the sound of a zipper being pulled down.

“You’re a fucking heartless bastard!” My voice is shaky as I hold back tears. _I can’t show weakness._

“Maybe, but a heart is like Achilles’ heel: a nasty flaw that leaves you exposed to anything.”

And with that he shoves himself into me painfully. My breath hitches. My ass in on fire. I whimper loudly.

“So this is for _thinking_ of breaking out,” The Irish leader states, shoving his member deep inside without giving me the time to properly cath my breath and get used to him.

 He slides out. My fists clench tightly as I swallow back a pained shout. _I can’t show him in in pain. I can’t show him he won. I can’t give in to him!_

“This is for actually succeeding,” He continues, ramming himself inside again. “That’s for being so fucking mouthy around me,” He goes on, grunting as he thrusts in balls deep. I whinge in complaint. _Think of it as physical abuse, not sexual,_ I encourage myself, still fighting the tears threating to fall at any moment.

“This is for thinking of calling the police and dumbly doing it,” The blonde adds.

I squeal in anguish as Niall plunges in yet again, only this time slapping both my sides of my butt. I whine, feeling him repeating the action repeatedly.

 “And last but not least, this if for lying to me about it.” He ends, roughly shoving three fingers past my lower lips. This time I sob, but Niall’s pace doesn’t falter. He’s pushing so our hips meet, his digits curling simultaneously inside me. “You’re so tight Cupcake,” He groans, breathing erratic. “I should’ve done that yesterday. Fucking hell!”

My heads spins as his speed increases until I feel him emptying himself inside me. Panting, he pulls out and zips his jeans, before unlocking the handcuffs. He throws them in the corner of the room, and throws me my clothes.

“Now thank me for making you a stronger person,” He boasts. Defying him doesn’t even cross my mind at this point.

“Thank you Niall for making me a stronger person,” I utter shakingly, the words tasting sour in my mouth.

“Good. Get dressed. You’re going to start learning the basics of what we do with Harry, while I take care of some other business.” He declares.

Rubbing my aching wrists, I grimace and rapidly put my clothes on. I feel gross.

“When can I shower?” I mumble, massaging circles on my tender wrists.

“Probably after. Now come on,” He ends, tugging me out of the room.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so sorry for the long wait... i just don't really know exactly where i'm going with this fic just yet... But i'm pretty sure it'll come around :)
> 
> Thanks so much for your patience and reviews, they are highly appreciated :D XXX


	7. Tenacity

I’m struggling to walk properly behind him as he tugs me up the stairs and into a dining room. A few men are already there, engrossed in a discussion. I notice Liam and Louis.

“Harry?” Niall asks. They all stop talking; eyes all riveted on Niall and I. “Can you come here for a sec?”

A curly-haired boy detaches himself from the rest of the group. _His face is familiar... yet I can’t place it. Probably someone I came across in an alley some day..._

“What do you want mate?” He asks.

“I want you to show Brooke a couple of things,” The blonde starts. “She knows how to fight alright but she tends to forget the important stuff when she’s pissed off or overpowered.”

“Interesting,” Harry chuckles, eyeing me up and down.

“Niall I’m tired. I won’t be able to do―”

“A reason more to do it,” he cuts me off swiftly. “When a gun is aimed at your head, the person holding it won’t care if you’re tired or not. You have the rest of the day to teach her a few things Harry.”

“Got it.”

I’m too tired to even fight his grasp as I’m brought downstairs yet again, but in another room. This one has three punching bags hung randomly around, as well as a couple bullet punctured targets. The floor was covered by thin mats.

“Brooke Evans... So we meet again,” Harry declares after he’s shut the door behind him. He smirks, crossing his arms over his chest as I keep trying to figure out who he was. “I’m hurt,” he mocks. “You don’t remember me?”

 _Harry...I don’t know of any Harry except for one..._ I frown _. I knew Harry Styles a couple years ago from high school but he moved to United Kingdom...Wait. That’s him. He’s Harry Styles_ , I realise, noticing some of his specific traits, such as his signature dimples and green eyes. _It’s really him._

“Ah so you do remember?” He chuckles, noticing the recognition that must’ve shown in my face. “Good.” Pushing on my chest, his leg rapidly slides under mine, making me fall flat on my back with a painful thump. “I owed you this,” he states, gazing at me from above.

I scoff, shutting my eyes as I lay on the hard mat. “You’re still holding a grudge?” I sneer, shaking my head incredulously. “After five years?”

“First thing, revenge gives you a purpose when you think you don’t have one,” The curly-haired boy explains, before kicking me in the stomach. Air is violently knocked out of me and I wheeze, turning to lie on my aching stomach. “That was what Niall first taught me when he picked me up.” He flips me on my back once more as I cough vehemently. “But today’s lesson isn’t about revenge okay sweetheart? It’s about tenacity. So stand up and fight me little girl,” he demands, tipping my chin upwards to force me to look into his green irises. “Unless you would rather the punching bags?”

“The punching bags are for beginners.”

“Then fight me.”

“I don’t want to fight you,” I shake my head tiredly.

“I don’t care,” he retorts. Seeing his leg moving to kick me again, I grab his foot and pull it, twisting it harshly. He falls to the ground, slowing his fall with his arms. Turning around, he looks up at me, a little confused.

“I don’t want to,” I repeat between clenched teeth. Holding himself up on his elbows, he smirks.

“I don’t care.” He rapidly flips himself back onto his feet, leaning on his back to propel himself of the ground using his arms to do a kip-up. “Stand up Brooke. Now.”

Huffing, I slowly get on my feet, only to receive a blow in the stomach and fall back down.

“Ouch what the hell?!” I whimper, clutching my stomach.

“Are you going to cry Brooke?” He coos, mocking me. “Aww poor little baby Brooke can’t stand getting a little roughened?”

“Stupid motherfucker!” I shout angrily, rapidly pushing myself up to a standing position. “I’m not a fuckin child!” I yell, throwing a couple punches.

“Too slow.”

He avoids all of them quickly, ducking out of the way every single time.

“You’re not concentrating hard enough,” he says.

I move to knock him in the face but his arms stop me, his large hands holding my fists tightly in front of him. Swiftly, I jump and let him hold my weight for a mere second before my feet collide with his chest with all the strength I can muster, boosting me upwards. I tuck my legs, bringing my hips over my head to complete the back flip before landing on my feet, glaring at him heatedly.

“That was okay... but babe... We aren’t in gymnastics,” he shakes his head, proceeding to swerve rapidly around, throwing a kick. I reflexively hold my arms up and block it successfully. But Harry doesn’t stop there. He’s relentless, pursuing his attacks with all his strength.

I’m sweating bucketfuls as we battle for what feels like hours, time passing painfully slowly due to all his cocky comments here and there.

“Come on Evans... you can do better than that,” he chuckles as he dodges my left hook. “Almost got it there... if you wanted to hit air,” the green-eyed boy mocks, taunting me.

I’m pissed. Quickly recalling a move I’d learned a couple years ago, I jump and engage into a butterfly twist, hitting him square in the face with my foot as I finish my swift rotation.

He rubs his jaw slowly, cocking his eyebrow upwards at me.

“Again Brooke, not in gymnastics... You’re only tiring yourself more with all these flips,” Harry declares before rushing on me.

My mind is spinning 100 miles an hour as I try my best to stop every single one of his unyielding blows. Unfortunately; he’s right and my energy is draining way quicker than his. I stumble to the ground, knocked off balance by his foot colliding with my thigh.

I groan in pain, holding my leg as I sit on the ground. I’m pretty sure I’ll have a foot sized bruised there tomorrow, as well as many on my arms.

“Enough,” I shake my head as he approaches me once more, fatigue overwhelming me. “I’m exhausted and I’m thirsty.”

“I decide when it’s enough,” Harry denies.

“What’s the point of this anyways?! I’m not even learning anything!” I protest furiously.

“If you haven’t learned anything, you’re stupid,” The curly-haired boy says dryly. “What was today’s lesson Brooke?”

I dig inside my head unwillingly, trying to remember what he first said when he brought me in here.

“Tenacity,” I mumble finally, the word pasty in my mouth.

“Exactly. So when I say we’re not done, I mean, we’re not done. We’ll stop when you’ll be crying.”

“I don’t cry,” I state between clenched teeth. “I won’t cry.”

“Then we won’t stop,” he winks, removing his shirt.

“Wh-wh-what in the world? Put your shirt back on,” I stammer, frowning as I eyed his tattooed body.

“Why? Is it distracting?” He enquires, crossing his arms over his chest. I watch the inked ship grow slightly just like his bicep.

“No.”

“Well then I don’t see why not. I’m hot... You can remove your shirt too,” he proposes.

“You’re mental if you think I’d agree to that,” I spit.

“Ehh I had to try,” he sighs, drawing near me again. A predatory look swims in his eyes. I take three steps back as he advances forwards.

“I’m tired!”

“Or maybe you’re just a coward. Just like old times huh Brooke?” He shakes his head, laughing softly to himself. “You’re weak Brooke, just like at school.”

“Fuck you,” I seethe, anger bubbling inside me.

“And you’re dirty mouthed? Tsk tsk,” he chastises. “Swearing doesn’t make you seem tougher love. Here’s the proof.”

Breath is knocked out of me, his fist colliding with my stomach only to be followed by an elbow striking underneath my neck. I gasp.

“See? You’re just as defenceless as before,” he boasts.

Seeing red, I jump on him, screaming in rage.

 “I’m in no way defenceless!” I spew, punching his face. I only get one punch in before I’m thrown to the ground. I stand back up rapidly, sending my foot his way. He catches it and hoists me in the air for about a millisecond before snapping his wrists sideways and making me do a 180 turn in the air and onto the floor.

“Focus!” He scoffs. “You’re not focusing!” He tells me as I try harming him again.

“I’m fucking tired alright!” I pant, keeping my eyes solely fixed on him.

“Get that word out of your vocabulary!” He orders. “Listen to me.” He hits his chest, a little below the left side of his rib cage. “Punch me here, as hard as you can.”

“I don’t need your advice!” I deny, hurling towards him again. I do an aerial sideswipe but he moves out of the way at the last second. I barely have the time to register the fact that he’s now behind me that both my arms are immobilized behind me.

“What did I say about gymnastics Princess?” He whispers in my ear, his body pressed against mine. Feeling his naked chest against my back, I can’t help breathing heavily. “They’re futile unless you’re using them properly, which you’re not.”

Suddenly he’s releasing one of my arms and making me flip forwards, my back receiving the harsh impact once he liberates my hand. I wince in pain and exhaustion, my eyes watering slightly.

“That’s enough Harry.”

I shut my eyes, hearing the Irish voice. I didn’t even notice him enter the room.

“We were done anyways,” Harry shrugs. “Be ready for Lesson 2 Brooke...It should be soon,” the British lad sing-songs before leaving the blonde devil and I alone.

I lie unmoving as I hear his feet moving across the mats to join me.

“You know Niall,” I start, still keeping my eyes closed. “Some people bring happiness _wherever_ they go; you bring happiness _whenever_ you go. So can you please make me happy and leave me alone?”

“Brooke.” His voice is sharp but my eyes stay firmly shut as I focus on pushing the pain flaring down my back away from my thoughts. “Brooke open your eyes.”

I don’t even fidget.

“Fine then. I’m guessing you don’t want to shower then hmm? You don’t want to change your clothes? Not a problem for me,” he huffs.

 I open my eyes rapidly and my breath hitches, his face mere inches from mine. It’s scary.

“I want a shower,” I admit.

“Yeah well you don’t exactly deserve one. That comment about people being bringing happiness pissed me off. I don’t feel like being nice to you right now.”

“You really are a nice person, its ridi―.”

“I’ll try being nicer when you’ll try being smarter,” he cuts dryly. “Now stand up and follow me.”

I move forwards and wince.

“I think I broke my back,” I mutter, cringing.

“I’ll have ice ready for you when you get out of the shower. Then you’ll meet the other people you’ll be listening to,” the blonde sighs, passing his hand through his bleached hair. “Come on Brooke stand up we don’t have all day,” he snaps.

Grumbling to myself, I manage to hoist myself up to a standing position, grimacing the whole time.

“Jesus be damned this is taking too long,” Niall decides before sweeping me off my feet.

“Ugh no let me go,” I shake my head.

“I would but you’re just too fucking slow,” he says, walking out the room and to the stairs.

“I’m sorry. I just got my back shattered,” I retort as he walks up the staircase. I frown as he reaches the first floor and walks up another set of staircases.

His arms tightly wound around my body, the gang leader walks down a small corridor and enters the door at the far end of the hallway. Striding right through the giant bedroom, he leads me inside the bathroom adjoining it. He deposits me on the counter.

“Undress and shower. I’ll prepare a bag of ice and some clothes. You have ten minutes Cupcake,” he says, before leaving and shutting the door behind him.

My eyes wander around the spacious bathroom, moving from the very large bathtub to the great glass shower and the long marble counter with its wooden cupboards. _He must be filthy rich._ _Rich with money he stole or something..._

My gaze locks on the window just above the toilet. I start going forwards only to stop, the idea of a soothing shower calling me desperately. I end up walking to the window anyway and find myself disappointed. There were no trees or anything to help me down three-stories.

Grimacing, I start taking my clothes off, keeping the bathroom’s doorknob into view the whole time. I rapidly skip into the shower once I’ve ridden myself of the dirt-caked articles. I turn the faucet open, wincing as the water hits my skin. I inspect the damage of the last two days: cut wrists due to the handcuffs, bruises blooming on my stomach, arms and legs as well as a partially sore throat and an aching back. _Wow I feel like I’m 16 again after the self-defense practices._

I take my time in the shower, shutting my eyes in bliss while letting the refreshing droplets run down my skin and rejuvenate every pore. I sigh contentedly, massaging my scalp with soapy hands, followed by the rest of my body. I moan softly, the feeling heavenly compared to today’s earlier events.

“Don’t you look tasty like that.”

I curl around myself quickly upon hearing his voice, trying to hide myself from his perverted gaze.

“Don’t stop on my account Brooke, you seemed to be enjoying yourself,” the Irish boy chuckles.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the cliffhanger :$ But hey are people still reading this? I haven't been getting many responses from it and i was just wondering if i should consider abandonning it? Lemme know what you think i should add if you think it's a little dull and i'll take it in serious consideration.
> 
> Thanks so much for bearing with me guys, you are all amazing.


	8. Scars of Tomorrow

I don’t move, keeping myself hidden as best as I could with my arms.

“No? Oh well another time,” he sighs. “Now get out,” he demands.

“The clothes―”

“Are in my hands,” Niall completes. “You’ll have to face me if you want them Brooke.”

“Because giving me a towel is impossible for you?” I sneer, still keeping myself covered, not facing him.

“Not impossible, just highly distasteful,” he responds simply. “Come on Cupcake you aren’t scared of turning around now, are you?” He taunts.

“I’m disgusted, it’s not the same thing,” I snap.

“And as I keep reminding you, I don’t have all day. I’m a very busy man darlin’ so hurry the fuck up and stop being such a fucking girl,” The Irish boy retorts brusquely. _It’s not my fault I’m a girl dipshit._ “And if your pretty little ass isn’t out of there in less than three seconds, I’m pulling you out forcefully.”

“Fine.”

Cringing, I turn the tap clockwise, stopping the water flow. I shudder before stepping out of the shower’s warmth. Keeping my eyes facing towards the floor, I walk towards him with one hand across my chest, the other one extended for him to place the clothes in it.

“I’m not giving them to you until you’re looking into my eyes and asking nicely.”

Gritting my teeth, I restrain myself from hitting him. _Stupid bastard. I hate you._

“Can I have the clothes Niall, please?” I ask, my eyes meeting his reluctantly.

“With _pleasure_ Brooke,” he grins, handing the pile over. I snatch it out of his hands, walking a little bit farther from him. He chuckles, but I can feel him piecing a hole in my back. Ignoring his intense gaze, I take a look at what he’d given me: a towel as well as underwear, a jean-jacket without sleeves, marine Converse shoes and a black leather skirt. I hastily use the towel to dry myself off before sliding the articles of clothing on. My bruised stomach was showing underneath the size-too short jacket, just like my exposed legs under the skirt. The shoes on the contrary, were a little too big.

“Where do you want me to put it?” I enquire, holding the damp towel up.

“Hang it on the shower door to dry,” he shrugs, his eyes still locked on me.

“Where did you even find this?” I ask, motioning the clothes as he leads me out the bathroom.

“It was lying around here and there... I think the skirt is Harry’s sister’s, Liam brought out the jacket from I don’t know where and the shoes used to be Harry’s,” he explains, letting me back inside the bedroom.  

“And the underwear?” I scrunch my nose distastefully. _What if it belonged to one of their previous one-night stands? Uhh gross._

“Zayn’s sister coincidently had things to give away.” _I don’t know who Zayn is._ “You’re going to meet him right now,” Niall answers my apparently spoken thought. The Irish boy escorts me out of his room and guides me down the stairs before turning left. We enter what looks like a living room. He forces me to sit on one of the large half-circle sofas. “Wait for me here,” he demands, exiting swiftly after.

Curiosity getting the best of me, I inspect my surroundings. The living room was clean; there wasn’t a speck of dust in sight, which highly surprised me. The soft beige floor was carpeted, the color matching the light brown of the sofas as well as the furniture placed here and there. A huge T.V. was hung above a beautiful stone fireplace and a crystal chandelier held on top of the circle of sofas. Coffee tinted curtains covered the large window to my right.

As I look around, I find myself yawning. Even if the shower had done some good, it didn’t put an end to my exhaustion. _I want to sleep. At home. Where I’m safer._

I’m suddenly alert as I hear deep male voices nearby. I rapidly turn my head to the sound source. Niall is the first one to walk through the doorframe, a big bag of ice in his hands. He’s followed by four men, three which I knew. _If the three others are Louis, Liam and Harry, then the Arabian-looking guy must be Zayn?_

Niall walks over to me.

“What part of your back hurts?” He enquires, eyeing me warily.

“All of it.”

“Oops,” Harry chuckles as he takes a seat with Liam and Zayn on the opposite couch.

I shoot him a glare. It’s then I realize that the bag Niall has in his hands is in fact shaped like a blanket. I shiver, flinching as Niall places the ice cloak over my shoulders.

“That should do it for now,” he huffs, before taking a seat beside me. Goose bumps rising on my skin due to the coldness, I notice Louis isn’t sitting: he’s talking to the earpiece while walking in circles. “We’ll do this quick alright?” Niall declares, forcing me to look away from Louis. “Liam’s in charge of security. He can bypass any alarm and look after about everything. Zayn takes care of the material. Guns, drugs, people, anything we need, he’s the one who’ll fetch it,” he explains, motioning the darker-haired boy. “Louis, as you might already have guessed, is our technology guy. He can find basically everything about anyone’s life with a couple clicks and he can also create a lot of useful little gadgets such as the chips most of us have. And then last but not least, Harry―”

“I make sure people respect the rules babe,” he answers.

“As in―”

“As in I kill people who don’t respect treaties,” Harry cuts me off, smirking. “Or people I just find genuinely annoying.”

“They all work under my orders,” Niall puts in, silencing Harry with a fierce look. “So I decide who ought to be menaced or killed. I’m the one in charge of the main operations. For the smaller ones, they can all take charge of their own groups of men and lead them wherever they please. Is that clear for you?” The Irish leader asks.

“Crystal.”

“You are inferior to all five of us. That means when they ask you do to something, you do it. I’m the only one who can bypass their orders when they’re related to you, understood?”

I purse my lips distastefully.

“Brooke am I clear?” He repeats, voice hard.

“Yes,” I reply. “But why are you telling me all this again? It’s not like I’m staying here permanently,” I roll my eyes.

“You’re staying here for as long as I want Cupcake. That’s an order. And you know quite well what happens when you try defying me, don’t you?”

I immediately think of the people he hung in the hotel, as well as his earlier abuse to my poor bottom and I gulp.

“Exactly.”

“But there’s not purpose anyways!” I protest. “I don’t kill people!”

“You will. When I think you’re ready, you’ll be going on the field with us and you’ll have to kill. Until then, you’ll be useful at home.”

“No way―”

“Lads there’s some major trouble downtown,” Louis notifies, fingers pressed on his earpiece. He looks at them. “Jay isn’t really happy with Max’s unexpected death and he’s got some of our men in hostage. Apparently, he wants to have a little chat with you Horan and he’s killing a hostage every 10 minutes. He won’t stop until you come,” he informs.

Swiftly, all five boys start moving. Guns are pulled out from underneath the couch cushions and voices elevate, all of them talking at the same time. I’m half-listening as Niall starts barking instructions to the other three. I curl into a ball on the couch, trying to be as invisible as possible. _If all five of them leave without paying attention to me, I’m alone and free to go._

My hopes are destroyed as Niall grabs my arm. He hands me over to Louis, the latter grasping my arm identically to how Niall had previously done. The coat of ice I had falls off.

“Listen to him,” the blonde demands before he’s grabbing a leather jacket and jogging out the front door with Liam, Zayn and Harry on his heels.

Louis sighs irritably once they’re gone.

“Christ Niall I’m not a fucking babysitter,” he mutters angrily to himself, tugging me out of the living room.

“Well that’s a good thing because I’m not a baby,” I snap back.

“Well then why the fuck do I have to take care of you?” He counters. “I have much more important stuff to do than watch over you.”

He pushes me through a door. The room we’re in is dim, buzzing with life. Multiple screens are on the walls, beeps are resonating here and there and the top of desk is filled with wires and weird-looking devices. Weirdly, there’s also a bed in the far corner of the room.

“You sleep here?!” I gasp incredulous as he shuts the door behind us.

“Some nights,” he nods before sitting in front of what I guess is the main computer. “I have to stay on the lookout for the different gang activities at night,” the brown-haired boy continues, looking rapidly between screens while clicking. A bird’s view of Chicago was spread on about six screens, dots strewn here and there on the map. Most of them we’re identified with names.

“How did you locate them so fast?” I frown.

“Some of the guys working for us have microchips.”

 “Niall. They’re in the underground parking lots at the edge of the city,” he says rapidly, the screen automatically zooming on the named spot. Several bundles of yellow dots were approaching a big red one. “Yes. Harry and Zayn should go around and meet them from behind.”

“How about the red dot? The other gang doesn’t possible have microchips you can access...”

“Their phones are easy to track down due to the signal they’re constantly emitting. Now stop asking questions, you’re annoying me,” he quiets. “They’re at the third level Niall. Hurry I think Jay will start killing soon.”

Seeing Louis so engrossed in his work, I decide it might be a good time to make a break for it while I still can.

“Where the fuck do you think you’re going,” Louis chides angrily as soon as I start to leave. I freeze, spinning only my head around to look at him. His eyes aren’t even off the screen. “Liam where the fuck do you think you’re going?! Yes the wrong way!” He shouts, frustrated. _Oh he wasn’t talking to me. Good._

Not wasting another second, I sprint out the door. My legs carry me as fast as they can down the small hallway and right through the front door. I’m barely down the front steps that I’m tackled from behind into the grass.

Pain is sent up my back and I squeal.

“Like I said, I need to fucking take care of you,” Louis grumbles from behind me. I thrash uselessly as his arms constrict around mine. The British boy tugs me back into the house.

“No! Fucking let go of me!” I protest as he drags me back into the room where we were just a minute ago. He shoves me on the bed.

“Don’t move,” he threatens, hastily walking back to his desk. He grabs a long wire as well as a black bracelet. “This,” he says, motioning the wire and cuff, “is one of my little inventions. When activated, this bracelet can’t leave the area within this wire without heating up rapidly and burning the bearer.” I watch him carefully as he places the wire so it makes a circle around the bed I was sat on. Oh no.

Having a faint idea how things we’re going to go, I try jumping away from him but he’s quicker than me. Gripping my arm tightly between his fingers, he opens the cuff and places it on my left wrist. A red light blinks on the bracelet as he releases my hand.

“Activate.”

The light turns green.

“No, no, no! Deactivate!” I deny, attempting to remove the cuff myself. I try pulling it off to no avail.

“It’s programmed to recognize my voice sweetheart so don’t tire yourself,” Louis rolls his eyes, before resuming his initial position on the chair facing the screens.

Not believing his invention actually worked, I step off the bed and over the wire. As soon as my left arm crosses the invisible barrier, the black cuff starts burning up, its color switching to red.

“Ouch!”

I move back onto the bed and the wristlet cools immediately. Cringing, I move the object to inspect it’s doings. The skin is burnt. Badly. It’s most likely to scar.

“What the fuck,” I spew, eyeing my scorched wrist.

“I warned you.”

“What did you even create this torture device for?!”

“Brats like you who need to be contained.”

“You fucking―”

“Why don’t you try to sleep Brooke hmm?” He enquires, his gaze not leaving the screens once. “I’m pretty certain you must be tired, no?”

“I might sleep if you get this thing off me and let me go!” I ignore him.

 “Unless you’re willing to incinerate your hand, you’re not leaving this bed until Niall comes back so I strongly suggest you get some sleep while you can,” Louis silences.

Huffing loudly in annoyance, I find myself lying on the bed. Tentatively, I advance my left arm out of the wire’s limit.

“Fucking hell!”

Searing pain inflames my member and I bring it back to myself instantly. Grunting, I cross my arms over my chest and wait for the time to pass. _This’ll be something to remember for the rest of my life,_ I think bitterly. _And I’ll have the scars to prove it,_ I add, looking down at my bruised, burnt and cut body.

“Niall careful he’s just around the corner and he’s not alone,” Louis warns loudly.

I try listening to his conversation for as long as I can. My body though, decides otherwise, begging for slumber. Eyelids heavy, I find myself falling asleep despite Louis’s shouts and the loud beeping of the monitors.


	9. Apologies

“What in the world?” I yell, jolting awake as something cold is pressed on my wrist. I’m suddenly fully alert. My gaze lands on Louis who’s kneeling beside me, dipping a towel into a bucket of water.

“Calm down, it’s only me,” he huffs, wringing the water out of the towel.

“That’s a reason more to be agitated,” I retort.

“Whatever.”

I flinch as he presses the cold cloth to my burnt wrist. The burn seems bad enough, the outline of the cuff clearly visible due to its stingy red color.

“Why do you even bother?” I question after a few seconds. _He was the one who made me wear the Devil’s Cuff in the first place!_

“I’m sorry the device burnt your wrist,” he says simply. “I wasn’t planning on harming you this badly. I didn’t think you’d be stupid enough to actually test my sayings and burn yourself,” he explains, dabbing my roasted skin.

I purse my lips, saying nothing.

“Niall’s on his way back,” he announces suddenly.

“Great,” I grumble sarcastically. A smile forms on Louis’s lips but it disappears almost immediately, the brown-haired boy focused on touching my wrist lightly with the cold towel. It’s then I realize how silent it is. I look around to see that all the computers and devices Louis was using earlier were closed. _Hmm._

He stands up after a couple minutes.

“Are you hungry?”

“A little,” I nod.

“C’mon. Let’s get something to eat before they return,” he decides, guiding me out the room. I follow him to the kitchen, sitting on a small stool in front of the counter.

I watch as Louis pulls out a spoon of one of the drawers, followed by a jar of peanut butter from the fridge. I gape in awe as he digs the spoon in before shoving the creamy substance in his mouth.

Our eyes meet. Pulling it out of his mouth slowly, he frowns.

“What the fuck are you doing exactly?”

“You eat peanut butter like its chocolate,” I state.

“And? Why are you just sitting there looking at me? Did you expect me to give you something to eat too?”

“Uh I don’t know you said we were going to get food so I assumed―”

“Sweetheart I’m not going to do anything for you. You get up and feed yourself,” he cuts swiftly, taking another spoonful of peanut butter as he sits on the stool next to mine.

“Fine, whatever,” I huff, standing up. I feel him watching me as I open the fridge, looking for something edible. My gaze diverts beside the door and out the window in the living room. It’s dark outside.

“What time is it exactly?” I ask, grimacing.

“Quarter to”

“Quarter to what?”

“Ten.”

“Fuck. That late?” I scowl.

“Yes.”

Shaking my head in disbelief I peer around in the fridge, my eyes falling on a bag of yellow apples. Reflexively licking my upper lip, I grab one and close the refrigerator’s door.

“Why didn’t you wake me up sooner?” I enquire annoyed, passing the fruit under the tap water.

“I was busy and I didn’t want to deal with you. I couldn’t take care of a raging child and help lead an operation at the same time,” he shrugs, dipping his spoon into the jar yet again.

“I’m not fucking child,” I snap.

“Fine, whatever,” he mocks.

“It’ll probably take an eternity for me to sleep tonight,” I grumble to myself, taking a bite out of the fruit _._ The sweet taste fills my mouth. _Hmm. Now that I think of it, eternity could grant me freedom though,_ I realize.

I continue taking bites out of my apple thoughtfully, but keeping a wary eye on Louis who was still feasting on peanut butter.

I hear the front door open just as I dump the apple’s core in the trash. Louis had tucked his snack away in the fridge only a few minutes ago.

“Lou, Harry’s wounded,” Niall declares tiredly, stepping into the living room and into our line of sight.

“Where is he?” Louis stands up rapidly, walking through the living room and to the front door. I advance forwards too, leaning on the living room’s doorframe with my arms crossed to be able to see both of them.

“Already at yours. That stupid bastard Siva shot him and the bullet grazed his shoulder,” Niall explains irritably. He takes off his jacket, throwing it on the couch. I notice his dishevelled appearance, dirt caking his jeans, shoes and white shirt. There was also a shallow gash a little higher up his waist, visible due to the large tear in his t-shirt “Not anything bad, but I think you should go check it out,” he ends, passing his hand through his bleached hair as he crashed on the couch.

Louis nods.

“What about you?” Louis counters, motioning the wound on his torso as he grabs his own leather jacket from the closet.

“I’ll be fine. Just a bit of glass problem. Liam removed it,” he reassures, lifting his shirt to check his cut.

“You better disinfect it Niall,” Louis advises. “Anyway I’m off! See you tomorrow mate!” He says before leaving.

I watch Niall with interest as he sighs and shuts his eyes, leaning his head backwards in fatigue. He almost looked endearing. Almost.

“So what did you do with Louis?” He asks tiredly, turning his head towards me. His brows furrow suddenly. “What’s that on your wrist?” He demands, scowling as he stands up.

“A burn.”

“I’m not fucking dumb Brooke. How’d you get it?” he persists, taking my wrist into his to examine it.

“Louis used one of his inventions on me and I just thought he was bluffing when he explained to me its function. Turns out he knows what he’s doing,” I state simply, trying to tug my arm out of his grasp.

“Why did he have to cuff you, Cupcake?” His tone is suddenly sickly-sweet, screaming danger.

“Umm because he felt like it?” I say carefully. His grip tightens considerably.

“Don’t lie. I’m giving you one last chance Brooke... Why did he have cuff you?”

“I don’t know Niall! I guess he was busy and didn’t want me running off,” I try.

“The question is, did you try to run off, princess?” His voice is menacing.

“No I-I-I just―”

“Brooke you’re lying!” Niall explodes. “You’re fucking lying! That’s twice in less than 24 hours!”

“N―”

“Don’t you fucking dare to try to deny it! I know Louis!” He silences swiftly. The blonde pushes me to the wall, his body towering over mine. His hand clenches my left thigh between his fingers as I move my knee upwards. “Keep fighting Cupcake, I don’t mind. You’re just making yourself even more valuable to my eyes,” he whispers in my ear, before pulling me off the wall and throwing me to the ground. He doesn’t even leave me the time to process what just happened that he’s grabbing my right ankle, dragging me upstairs.

“What is fucking wrong with you?! You stupid bastard let go!” I yell angrily.

I twist my body around so I’m on my stomach and attempt to grab anything to stop him from tugging me. My fingers finally grab the side of the wall preceding the hallway leading to his bedroom.

“Come on Brooke,” Niall scorns.

He yanks harshly and I yelp, my fingers giving out and scraping the wall. I struggle and squirm.

“Niall let me go! Let me fucking go!”

“Not a chance.”

The Irish boy tows me into his room and shuts the door before finally letting go of me. I tackle him as soon as he releases my ankle but he manoeuvres himself out of my reach. Ducking slightly, he forces me to roll under him, pushing me on my back. Both my arms are immediately immobilized, Niall advancing his body so his knees are pressing my wrists to the ground with all his weight on either side of my head.  His crotch is inches from my face.

I move my face away as best as I can, writhing to get him off.

He pulls out a piece of rope from the dresser’s drawer beside us and proceeds to tie my wrists together. My back chafes painfully on the carpeted floor as I fight against him. I whinge when he tightens the binding over my burnt skin, the sting excruciating.

“I’m going to take care of you Brooke okay?” He coos mockingly, removing his weight from my body. I try backing away as much as I can using only my feet but he only drags me back to him, holding me still. Another rope is pulled out and the blonde ties my ankles together this time, even tighter than my wrists.

He stands up, smirking.

“Untie me for fucks sake Niall! You pretty much cut off the blood circulation!” I yell angrily, attempting to untie the bundle of ropes at my feet.

“Stop yelling Cupcake. Please,” he huffs, rubbing his temples. His gaze drops momentarily to the slash on his stomach. “I’ve had an exhausting day so let me take a shower and cover this up a bit, and I’ll come right back here with you alright?”

“That is if I’m not gone!” I spew heatedly, glaring at him.

“Indeed,” he winks. “But we both know that that won’t happen,” Niall smiles, waving at me teasingly before entering the bathroom joined to his room. He doesn’t shut the door behind him.

I grunt loudly in protest, wrestling to get the bindings undone. I hear the shower start after barely two minutes, and I know it’s my time to move. I roll to my stomach. Using my arms and legs to propel my body in motion, I advance slowly but surely on the carpeted floor, pushing and pulling with my hands and feet until I reached the door that led outside his room. I tuck my legs underneath myself and push, using the door as a means of support to stand up on my feet.

Too soon, the sound of running water stops.

Grimacing, I grab the doorknob and turn it, doing small backward jumps to open the door since my ankles are tied together.

“Brooookkeee,” Niall sing-songs behind me.

 I hop through the doorframe as quick as I can. Not daring to jump down the set of stairs, I continue down the hallway, pushing myself through a partly open door as I hear his steps nearing. I fall forwards, tripping on my own feet. Blinking a couple times, I realise I’m in a private library. _That killer reads books? What the fuck?!_

I can’t dwell on the thought much longer though as I feel myself being picked up.

“Are you lost, princess?” he asks rhetorically, throwing me on his wet and naked shoulder. “You’re making everything worse for yourself Brooke...”

I thrash and kick, but it’s useless: his grip is stiff. Niall takes me back to his room and throws me on his bed. He’s over me immediately, his icy eyes piercing mine.

“You’ve been such a bad girl...” he purrs, caressing my cheek while his legs straddled my hips to end my squirming. I shift my head away from his touch, scowling. “Tsk tsk you need to be respectful and look at the person who’s speaking to you Cupcake.” His fingers lock on my chin, forcing me to look straight into his blue eyes. “There. Now I’m giving you a chance to apologize. Truthfully. For all the shit you’ve caused today, starting from this morning. If it’s honest enough, you’ll get to keep your virginity for another night, though tomorrow might be... intense. But if your apology is shit, I can promise you Brooke, that your first time will be tonight and it won’t be pleasant because I’m exhausted and tomorrow will be even worse,” he finishes, not an ounce of sympathy present in his voice. His hand trails down my thigh slowly.

“Don’t touch me,” I seethe, scooting away.

“First time tonight then?”

“No, no, no wait!” I shake my head as his fingers slide underneath the skirt I was wearing. He smirks and I have to restrain myself from kicking him in the stomach. I decided on glaring instead.

“I’m listening Brooke...” Niall cocks his head sideways.

Taking a deep breath and squashing all my pride into a ball, I apologize.

“I’m sorry,” I say, looking directly into his cerulean orbs.

“For what?”

I clench my teeth, glowering at him.

“For escaping last night. For calling the cops on you this morning. For being impolite. For disobeying Louis and trying to run away again,” I enumerate calmly, my gaze never dropping. He squints, trying to see if I was bluffing or not.

“Thank me.”

“Pfft! For what?!” I utter, incredulous.

“For making you a stronger person. Go on, I’m listening.”

“Thank you Niall for making me a stronger person,” I grumble reluctantly.

“It’s to my own advantage really,” he responds, beaming. Sighing in content, he removes himself from over me and stands up and to shut the light. I notice he bandaged his wound, a white gauze wrapped around the upper part of his waist.

He shuts the lights and I’m alert. I freeze as I feel him slip under the covers.

“Aren’t you going to untie me?” I whisper, irritated. “I’m not even dressed for sleeping!” I protest, the jean coat and leather skirt uncomfortable now that I thought of them.

“That’s your fucking problem,” he retorts. “You didn’t do anything to improve your situation tonight. Deal with it,” he silences.

I mentally curse at him, beat the fuck out of him and bury him underground. _Oh wait. When he’s sleeping, I can actually make it out! Yes!_ I get giddy. _Sleep Niall. Sleep you stupid bastard so I can get away from your fucked up way of life!_

“Oh and I almost forgot,” Niall adds. “Don’t try to escape while I’m sleeping: all the doors and windows have alarms programmed at this time of the night... I’m not a fan of other people entering or leaving my house while I’m asleep,” He chuckles softly.

_And there goes my plan. Damn this night is going to be long. I’m not even tired. Fuck._


	10. Intrusive

I stay unmoving for a few seconds, wishing he’d fall asleep quickly. At least half an hour must’ve passed when I finally hear his breathing deepening, signifying his state of slumber.

_It was about time._

Moving carefully to avoid disrupting his sleep, I manage to bring myself to a sitting position on the bed, flinging my feet over the side to do so. Biting my lip, I advance my bottom so it’s on the edge of the bed, before forcing myself to a standing position. As soon as it’s done, I squat down to sit on the ground, supporting myself on the bed behind me. _There. I now need to get rid of those ropes._

Scowling, I get to work. Starting with my wrists, I bend my head down to take the rope between my teeth, and I tug. It doesn’t move, wound too tightly around my hands. Taking a deep breath, I look at the knot holding my wrists together. Not very complicated, yet strong as hell when opposed to a certain kind of resistance. _Too bad Niall didn’t take in consideration the intelligence of his resistance._

I bend down again, my mouth and teeth latching on a weaker point of the knot: where two pieces of rope over-lapped each other. I pull harshly. It moves, but just a little. Filled with determination, I move my wrists around a bit, attempting to separate them. Just like what had happened when I yanked with my mouth, the ropes slightly shift. Exhaling, I start the process again: I bend down to grab the rope with my teeth and jerk, before attempting to lengthen the space between my hands. After a few minutes only, I manage to slide my hands out of their bindings.

Rubbing my aching wrists, I sigh softly. _Much better._ My hands being free, it’s a lot easier to untie my ankles. Using a procedure similar to the one for my hands, my fingers manage to undo the bindings trapping my feet together. I throw the ropes away from me as soon as I’m finally liberated. My eyes, now accustomed to the dimness of the room, drop down to my wrists and ankles: there’s a distinct bundle of red lines where the rope had previously dug into my skin. I realize my wrists are the worst, the scars of last night’s bloody handcuff escape still present mixed with the damage the ropes made when they dug into my skin, worsening my burns. _God dammit._

I stand up, taking a careful look around. _There’s a door, a window, a closet and a dresser, as well as a freak sleeping soundly in a bed. Hmm. Out the door I shall go._ Taking one step forwards, I scowl, remembering what he had said a few minutes ago about the alarms on the doors and the windows. _I can’t risk it. But...What if I kill the freak?_

The thought pops into my mind but I push it away. _I’m not a killer. I fight killers and assholes but I can’t be like them._ I look at the snoozing Niall beside me. _I could knock him out and run out the door. But then I’d probably be dead if the alarms warn the other gang members or something... He’d kill me when he’d come back to himself._

“Fuck you Horan,” I whisper heatedly, placing my hands on my hips. I shudder when I see the shadow of a smile forming on his lips. _He’s probably dreaming about killing someone, dick._

Not knowing what to do, I walk to the dresser, bent on exploring a bit. Opening the first drawer, I find clothes, and only clothes. Grimacing, I shut it and open the second one. Filled with socks, boxers... and two revolvers. _Great. Guns in his room._ _Next time he’ll want them, he won’t have them._ Shaking my head, I grab them and slide them underneath his bed. I wince as I hear them hit the wall, but Niall doesn’t wake. Sighing in relief, I walk back to the dresser, opening the third drawer. It’s empty. _Weird._ Now the fourth drawer turned out to be much more interesting.

My eyes grow big when I see its contents. Multiple papers are strewn here and there, along with a few strands of rope, a smaller gun, a bag and a leather-covered box. I glance at the papers first: most of them were maps of the city with circled spots. The others were of Europe; England and Ireland more precisely. _No surprise there, Niall’s Irish and the rest sound British._ Pushing the sheets away, I peer inside the bag to find sachets of white powder, green leaves and pills. I swallow nervously. _Drugs._ Stashing them hastily back into their bag, I grab the small gun, inspecting it. There are three bullets in the cylinder’s chambers. _Hmm. I could keep it. Use it against him, without killing him. I bet it’d fit in a sock or in my bra..._ Nodding to myself,I descend the weapon into my shirt, sliding it under the strap of my bra before pulling it down a little so the barrel is nestled in the bra’s cup and the handle is barely poking out. I grimace, the cold contact of the metal on my skin making Goosebumps rise.

My hands move to the last item: the brown leather-coated box. The leather is flawless, making it obvious that this box couldn’t be very old. I pick it up, weighing it. _About five pounds so based on its size, it can’t be filled with ammunition..._ Sliding my fingers over the smooth surface, I try figuring out how to open it. I smile when I find it: half-way up on its side, a small cavity forms the box’s perimeter. Slipping my nails in, I pull upwards, removing the lid. My heart skips a beat when I gaze at what’s inside, this evening’s apple almost making its way up to my mouth. Toys sit peacefully in the box. _Sexual_ toys. Handcuffs, gags, dildos, plugs, you tell me, and it’s in there. _Oh god and the box can’t have been here for a long time so they’re clearly meant for me..._ It’s sickening. I shut the lid rapidly, bile threatening to rise up my throat. _He’s sick. So fucking sick. I can’t let him use that on me._

Grabbing the box as well as the ropes resting beside the bag of drugs, I shut the drawer and stand up, studying my surroundings. _Closet. I’ll hide them in the closet since I can’t leave his room._

Calmly, I walk over to the small door and open it. Turning the light on, I start to think about my options. _Now, where can I hide both things so he won’t find them right away..._ Poking around, I finally decide to hide the box under a pile of folded t-shits, behind a pair of boots, in a small cabinet and the ropes at the bottom of a sack protecting a tuxedo.

My eyes widen as they drift to a bundle of clothes packed at the farthest end of the closet. Girl clothes. Cocking my head sideways, I take a look at them. My fingers latch on Nike shorts and a simple black t-shirt. _Perfect._

_([Image here](http://www.polyvore.com/instrusive/set?id=130136571))  
_

“That’ll be way better to sleep in than this,” I tell myself quietly, removing the jean jacket as well as the black skirt before changing into on my new findings, keeping my underwear for good measure. Picking up the discarded clothes, I turn off the closet’s light and walk back into the bedroom. The blonde monster is still asleep, the sound of soft snores making its way to my ears.

 _I have to sleep somehow_ , I decide. _Or else I won’t be able to take care of myself properly tomorrow._ _But there’s no way I’m sleeping in the same room as him._ I scoff, glaring at the sleeping body. I notice the bathroom. Its door is slightly ajar. _Bingo. No way there’s an alarm on the door leading to his private washroom._

As I make my way to the other side of the room, I grab a pillow on Niall’s bed, having already made my mind about my sleeping arrangements: the big bathtub will do perfectly.

Shutting the door completely behind me once I’ve entered the bathroom, I toss the pillow inside and bed and seek for cover-like material. I smile in triumph when I find the stash of fluffy towels. Grabbing them all, I step inside the empty bath and start arranging them and the pillow so I could sleep comfortably. Once I’m more or less satisfied with the results, my hand reaches for the little gun still wedged between my bare skin and bra, making sure it’s still well hidden. An interrogation flies through my mind. _Would I dare to use it?_

My fingers circle around the small handle. _Would I?_ My thoughts drift to the last two days, to Niall’s threats and to the box of toys I had found minutes ago. My index slips on the trigger. _Of course I’d use it._

♣○♣○♣○♣

 

There’s the sound of running water. Far away, yet nearby. My back aches. My neck hurts too. I blink a couple of times, grunting quietly as I try to wake up and get back to my senses. _Sleeping in the bath probably wasn’t my best idea after all..._

The water stops flowing.

I frown, keeping my eyes shut. Water trickles on my face. _Eww._ I blink awake, wiping my face with my hand. My baffled expression goes up a naked dripping body before meetings Niall’s icy blue eyes.

“Would you care to explain why you’re sleeping in the bath?” He asks calmly, grabbing a towel from my makeshift bed and wrapping it around his waist. The blonde frowns, cocking his head sideways. “And why are you dressed like that?” He enquires.

I look down. _Right, I changed my clothes._

“I told you I wouldn’t sleep in last night’s clothes,” I shrug nonchalantly. I move to stand up but he presses his hand to my shoulder, forcing me to stay sat the bath. I glare at him.

“You went through my stuff.”

It wasn’t a question.

“I did.”

“You didn’t ask for permission.”

“You were sleeping,” I counter, trying to stand up again. Niall pushes me down at the bottom of the bath again, making me feel like a child being chastised.

“You can’t touch what belongs to me, understood? The only thing you’re allowed to touch that belongs to me, is yourself.”

I scoff.

“Yeah right.”

His right hand suddenly slams down on my exposed thigh and I squeal in shock. The outline of his hand is already starting to appear on my skin.

“The fuck is wrong with you?!”

“Stop being so damn mouthy,” he orders. “I won’t tolerate it.”

“Maybe if you’d stop being such an asshole I’d consider being polite,” I retort. Niall yanks me out of the bathtub easily, before shoving me to the ground. I feel the small gun shift out of my bra, making me freeze in worry. _Did he see it?_

“Brooke, you’re seriously fishing for trouble. I suggest you quit it immediately,” the blonde threatens, showing no evidence he’d seen the gun slip out. Biting my lip, I subtly replace the weapon in its place. “You owe me some respect,” he continues, towering over me.

“I don’t owe you anything,” I snap, standing up.

His wet body suddenly presses mine into the wall behind me.

“You owe me everything Cupcake, from your own safety to the one of those you care for,” he whispers menacingly, his chest pushing against mine. “I could harm them all very badly if I wanted, but I chose not to. So yes, you owe me big time.”

“They need protection _from_ you. If you were out of the picture, I wouldn’t have this problem,” I seethe.

“You think? I don’t think you realise that your implications within my gang has made them possible targets,” he responds, his hand sliding up carefully between my thighs.

I push him away, scowling.

“I hate you. You make me sick.”

“The feeling’s almost mutual, Cupcake. I hate your stubbornness, but you arouse me more than you sicken me,” he mocks sultrily, his hand cupping my cheek.

“Fuck off.” I step away from him. He drops his hand.

“Very soon Brooke, I’m going to lose my patience and fucking ruin you,” Niall says in a sickly sweet voice. “One more rude outburst or misplaced action, and I can guarantee this time your nose won’t be the only thing bleeding when I’m done with you.”

I watch him as he walks to his dresser. _Oh no. Oh fuck._


	11. Kill or be Killed

Thinking quickly, I follow him and pull out the gun, pressing it in his back.

“Don’t move,” I order, hands shaking as I pull the gun’s hammer backwards.

“Brooke, put the gun down,” Niall responds calmly.

“No! You don’t get to give me orders right now!” I retort, pushing the barrel deeper in his back. _Shoot him! Fucking shoot him!_

“We both know you don’t have the guts to shoot me Brooke.”

“Shut the fuck up!” I holler, bringing the gun up to the back of his neck.

“Fine then.” He shrugs, sighing.

_Kill him! Fucking kill him! He’ll destroy you if you don’t!_

“I’m waiting...Go ahead Cupcake, kill me,” the blonde devil taunts. Tears of frustration build into my eyes, my finger frozen on the trigger. “Kill me, if you think that’s what I deserve,” he continues. “A quick death.”

“You deserve an agonizing death you bastard! For the hell you made me live!” I deny, pressing the barrel into his skin once more.

“That was hell? Brooke it’s been two days. Two mellow days. You haven’t lived hell yet,” he replies mockingly. “But you will real soon.”

“No! Not if I send a bullet through your fucking skull!”

“You’re taking too much time.”

I barely have the time to blink. Niall spins around, knocking the gun out of my hand with his elbow before sending me to the floor.

“You never learn do you?!” he spews. I push him off and kick him in the stomach, before standing out to sprint out the door. His hand grasps my ankle though, yanking me backwards. I fall on my stomach, grunting.

“Zayn? Yeah Brooke and I are coming to visit,” Niall grumbles behind me, tugging my ankle tightly. My skin is sure to be bruised. “Liam come and help me deal with her. Louis, meet us at Zayn’s. Yup let’s do exactly that.”

I struggle against Niall, not understanding half of his conversation with the other boys. Nor did I care.  

“Let go! Let me fucking go! I was going to kill you!” I scream, thrashing on the floor.

“But you didn’t. And you’re going to have to deal with the heavy consequences!”

His hand goes down on the back of my thigh, the slap echoing loudly in the room. I yelp in pain.

“Liam God dammit you live nearby!” Niall hollers, slapping my leg once again. Seconds later, the brunette storms into the room. He rapidly manages to lock my arms behind my back, pulling me away from Niall whom I was trying to kick in the shins.

“Do you want me to knock her out?”

“No. Just take her to the car,” Niall orders. “I’m getting dressed then I’ll join you,” he ends, arranging the towel around his waist.

“Which car? The Cadillac or the Bentley?”

“Bentley.”

Liam nods before tugging me out of Niall’s room and down the stairs. As soon as we’re downstairs, I succeed into making Liam release one of my wrists. Quickly reminiscing a self-defense move I’d learned a couple years ago, I bend my knees and bring the elbow of my restrained hand to his forearm, making it impossible for him to hold my wrist any longer.

I start running the second his fingers let go. Liam swears under his breath, hot on my heels.

I dash through the house, blindly trying to find a nearby exit. I turn around briefly, only to see Liam lunging for me. A split-second later, I’m sliding on the floor between his legs, before scampering in the opposite direction. My gaze locks on the front door and I charge towards it as fast as I can.

I whimper in pain as fingers suddenly grasp a handful of my hair, pulling me backwards harshly. My hands are immediately handcuffed behind my back, my assailant still having a firm grip on my hair. I wince and fall to the floor as a kick is delivered behind my knees.

“You had one fucking job Liam,” Niall snaps, keeping his fingers intertwined in my wild mane. “It hasn’t been a minute and she’s already running around freely.”

“You should’ve let me knock her out cold. She wouldn’t have been any trouble,” Liam huffs back.

“But then she might not have been awake for the rest of today’s events. And I want her to be.”

I gasp as Niall pull’s me backwards.

“Are you going to stand up?” He enquires. I glare at him. “I’ll take that as a no...” I squeal in pain as Niall tugs me by the hair. If there’s one type of pain I can’t endure, its hair pulling. Because it feels like I’m being scalped and it fucking hurts.

“Fine fine!” I give in. “I’ll stand!”

“Good girl.”

I grimace, reluctantly getting to my feet.

“Happy?” I scoff, looking at him behind my shoulder. Liam places himself in front of me, ready for another escape.

“Elated.”

Niall’s hands drop to the chain around my handcuffs before he resumes his dragging. I find myself struggling to keep up with his pace, due to the fact I had to walk backwards.

“Would you please just turn me around?!” I snap. “I’ll fucking fall!”

“You just have to trust me Cupcake,” he responds. Seconds later, I’m yanked through a doorframe and down a small set of stairs. Unable to place my feet properly, I trip. I yell, shutting my eyes as air rushes around me. I never touch the ground though, because Niall’s arms suddenly wrap around my waist.

“Got’cha,” he whispers in my ear, before placing me back on my feet. I’m stunned. _Why didn’t he let me fall on my face?_

“You drive Liam,” Niall instructs, shoving me in the car’s backseat. Rapidly, I writhe to get to the other side but the blonde devil is quicker. “Tsk tsk.” He sits me back at my initial place and reaches over me to shut the door. Smirking. Niall presses me to the seat as he stretches over my struggling body to fasten my seat belt, pulling it all the way so it’d lock in place. “There you go,” he sighs, clicking the belt shut. I grunt, pushing against the restraint but without the use of my hands, it turns out to be useless.

“I’m going to kill you one day Niall Horan,” I seethe angrily as Liam starts the car and drives out of the garage.

“You had the perfect occasion barely five minutes ago, Brooke. You’re clearly unable to kill me,” he chuckles, keeping a hand on my thigh. “You’re too weak for now. But don’t worry: soon enough, you might be able to shoot a gun.”

“You’re fucked.” I spew irritably. “And I can shoot a gun dip shit.”

His features harden, his fingers clenching around my thigh. “I’m already in a sour mood Brooke. There’s enough pain is coming your way: I suggest you shut your mouth for the rest of the ride,” the blue-eyed boy advises, keeping his sharp gaze locked in front of him.

Pressing my lips into a tight line, I grimace and listen to him.

“Yes Zayn I want to do this today. Yeah she won’t let us do it willingly that’s for sure. Yeah. That’d be a good idea,” the blonde speaks, rubbing his temples.

I wince as the car rolls over a small bump.

“We’re pulling in the driveway right now,” he informs, unfastening both our seatbelts. He steps outside and pulls me to his seat. “So you’ll be walking or I’m dragging you?” Niall asks.

“I’ll walk,” I grumble, getting out of the car. He beams.

“Good choice.”

Niall doesn’t hold me this time, but he does push me in the back a couple times, urging me to walk faster. I follow behind Liam, head hung low as we enter Zayn’s house. I freeze though as I’m lead into a dodgy-looking room. A big light was placed over a chair with restraints. It looked like a dentist’s office would, yet ten times darker.

“No no no you’ve got to be messing with me,” I stammer, moving backwards. My back hits Niall’s chest.

“I’m not. You pointed a gun at me. You considered _killing_ me. What did you expect Brooke, hmm? A spanking?” Niall scoffs, yanking me towards the chair. “Oh no. You don’t double-cross _me_ , and expect to get spanked.”

I start yelling and thrashing as Niall and Liam join their forces against me to get me to sit on the infernal chair. I refuse to hold my weight any longer, kicking violently as they lift me up and unlock the handcuffs forcing my hands behind my back. I start clawing for their faces but they swiftly tie my arms to the armrests, before doing the same with my legs, waist and torso. My breathing is ragged once I’m immobilized from the shoulders down.

“I hope you’re planning on immobilizing her head too,” Louis sighs, entering the room. He has a small box in one hand, plastic gloves in the other. “Because there’s no way I’ll be able to plant that microchip without damaging her canal or ear drum if you don’t,” he continues, walking towards us. “How’s your wound?” Louis adds, addressing to Niall.

“Healing,” he shrugs. “And I’ll hold her head still.”

My heartbeat accelerates unhealthily as the chair shifts from my sitting position to a laying position.

“Niall I’m sorry!” I get out, panicking. I didn’t want Louis to play surgeon with me. “Please! Okay I’m very very sorry!” I beg. _I don’t want that damn microchip!_

“I tried believing you last night... But you fucking ruined the little sympathy I had when you pointed that gun at me this morning,” he snaps.

“You sure you don’t want her to be a little drowsy for this? It’s really going to hurt, Niall,” Louis warns, washing his hand in the sink nearby.

“No. She fucking tried to kill me.”

I can’t help the tears of anger and helplessness forming into my eyes. _Why didn’t I kill him?!_

“Niall I’m practically taking a chunk of her skin off...” The brunette reasons. “There’s a reason the lot of us were sleeping when ours was implanted.”

“I agree with Lou, Niall.” Liam acknowledges. “It hurt even afterwards.”

“I didn’t ask for your opinion Liam,” the leader bites back. “God,” he sighs loudly, before his face nears mine. “What do you think hmm? How much pain do you think you’re able to take?”

_Fuck, I have to be strong about this._

“A lot,” I mumble, my pride overriding my fear. He smiles.

“I’ll let you numb her a bit Lou,” he decides after a few seconds of thought. “Because her answer amuses me.”

“How much is a bit?”

“I want last night’s burns to seem like a caress.”

My breath catches in my throat. _Last night’s burns? A caress?_

“Fine. A little bit of oxycodone should do the trick then.”

“I’m fucking you so hard once we get home Brooke,” Niall whispers in my ear as Louis gets his stuff ready. His voice sends shivers up my spine. “You fucked up _bad_ Brooke.”

I inhale slowly, trying to clear my head and calm myself. _It can’t be that bad. I’ve suffered through worse. I can’t show him I’m absolutely terrified._

I wince as a needle pierces the skin in the crook of my elbow.

“Right in the bloodstream,” Louis says, pushing the substance out of the syringe and into my arm. “Fifteen minutes top before it starts having an effect on her,” he adds.

“Perfect,” Niall smirks, his finger caressing my cheek. I move my face away from his disgusting fingers.

“Don’t touch me.”

“You won’t be saying that tonight,” he chuckles.

“You wish,” I spew.

“No, I know.”

I shut my eyes tightly, grunting as I try severing the restraints again. My head starts pounding and I whimper, tossing and turning my head.

“I’ll step out and see if Zayn needs help with the, umm, _package_ ,” Liam states, before exiting the room.

“How’s Harry?” Niall sighs, moving away from me.

“He was on pain killers this morning. The bullet hit an important vessel,” Louis explains. “I think he went back to sleep though when I left.”

“I have a feeling Jay’s not done with us yet... We can’t sell any of his members anything anymore. Maybe we’ll have to go back to Europe...”

I tune both boys out as they keep talking, waiting for the drug to kick in. _I have a little less than fifteen minutes..._ I pull my body forwards, but yet again my head is the only thing that moves. I huff loudly in exasperation.

 _Think Brooke. What can you do to make this situation better?_ Thenthe worst idea ever pops into my mind: _I could sleep and I wouldn’t feel any pain at all. They probably wouldn’t even be able to wake me up before Louis starts, since the drug will only support my sleep._

Taking a deep breath, I shut my eyes and try to empty my head of any thought. _I have to sleep. I need to sleep._

“Brooke what’s the square root of minus two?” Louis asks suddenly, interrupting my thoughts.

“A number,” I grumble, not in the mood to reply. _I need to sleep. I have to sleep. But the square root of minus two? What?_ “Wait no it’s impossible,” I frown.

“I’d say she has about ten minutes left...” the brunette declares.

 _Fuck. Ten minutes to sleep. Quick quick quick sleep Brooke!_ I try to regulate my breathing, inhaling and exhaling slowly as I attempt to think of nothing.

As soon as I feel my mind drifting though, Niall’s voice pulls me back to reality.

“You’re too calm Brooke. What are you thinking about?” The blonde enquires, his finger grasping my chin tightly.

“A world without you.”

“Must’ve been horrible.”

“Brooke what’s the square root of minus two?” Louis says again.

“I fucking told you a few seconds ago,” I retort.

“No you told me five minutes ago.”

“I did?”

“Do you feel this?”

“Feel what?” I move my head to the side to realize he’s touching my shoulder.

“She’s ready. Hold her head so her left ear’s exposed,” Louis decides. My head spins a little as Niall presses my face to the side.

“No, no, please,” I say, blinking rapidly. A hand presses on my neck.

“This is going to hurt.”

I scream as I feel something digging through my ear, piercing my skin. What feels like a blunt knife enters my ear, searing pain enflaming its path.

I struggle, hollering in pain.

“God dammit Niall hold her fucking still!” Louis urges.

I shriek again, feeling an excruciating pain as the skin inside my ear splits open. I panic even more as liquid starts filling it up.

“Shit, shit, shit blood’s flooding her ear! Flip her head around!”

I shut my eyes and whimper, feeling sick. My head’s once again turned over. The blood trickles out my ear, Louis immediately dabbing it with a cotton wad.

“You should start working on her wrist while I wait for her ear to stop bleeding,” Niall advises.

“Just keep wiping her ear with the wads alright?” He responds. “And check her pulse. The wrist has some important veins.”

“Okay.”

I’m dizzy and nauseous, but my ear is still on fire as Louis shuffles to let Niall take his place. I cry out as a hole is practically dug into my inner wrist.

“Stop! Stop please!” I beg, tears falling down my face. “You’re going to kill me!”

“This is exactly why these specific microchip insertions are done while the patient is sleeping, Niall.”

I groan, sensing a very long needle entering my wrist and digging until it reaches my hand. The semi-circle of skin under my thumb more precisely. A strong electric current fills my hand entirely, before the needle is removed.

“There. The microphone is in place. How’s her ear?”

“Better.”

“Bandage her wrist; I’ll take care of the rest.”

My vision is blurry as someone presses my right are against the chair once more. A hook digs into my ear canal.

“Pass me the tweezers Niall, and then hold her head again. I’m almost done.”

Pressure is applied on my neck and forehead, locking me in place as Louis presses something into the open skin of my ear canal.

A strangled cry escapes my lips at the agonizing sting.

“Done.”

I’m breathing erratically as Louis and Niall finally stop touching me. Nausea and drowsiness mingle together in my body as the chair shifts back to a sitting position. My ear and hand are still throbbing with waves of pain.

“That’s for when she’ll be ready,” I hear Louis say. I squint, faintly seeing him pass a small black box to Niall. “And that’s for you,” he continues, passing him something else. “She’s only connected to yours for now, but you can change that whenever.”

“Thank you. Brooke?”

“What?” I ask, my voice barely over a whisper. My head lolls in fatigue.

“I want you to thank Louis and I for making you a stronger person.”

“Thank you Louis for making me a stronger person,” I utter, unable to put up any resistance. “Thank you Niall for making me a stronger person,” I continue morosely.

“And what do you have to say for yourself about this morning’s events?”

“I’m extremely sorry I even thought about killing you.”

“Perfect. Now I want to know two things you’ve learned.”

“Not to try to kill you and quit struggling,” I mumble.

“Not exactly. A, you shouldn’t try taking on someone who’s not of your rank and B, don’t fucking hesitate when you want to kill somebody, you’ll end up being tortured. It’s kill or be killed in this world Brooke, so you better learn to be the one doing the killing,” he states, forcing me to look into his eyes.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Reviews are love!!! :D <3 <3 <3 Tell me if you like it?


	12. Banter

 “Now come on, Zayn brought a little something for you upstairs... To ensure you’ll actually behave properly for the next couple of days,” Niall declares, picking me up in his arms.

“No! I want to walk!” I protest violently. “Let me walk!” I demand, feeling too docile for my taste.

“Not a problem.”

I thank the lords for my quick reflexes as I land on my feet when he drops me to the ground. Moaning, I rapidly crumble to the floor, a sudden wave of nausea hitting me hard.

“And that must be the beginning of the side effects of oxycodone... Might last a couple hours,” Louis points out.

“I think I’ll throw up,” I mutter, feeling uneasy. The guys have no reaction, clearly not caring. _Dicks._

“Zayn’s probably waiting. Stand up Brooke.”

I don’t respond.

“Now, now. Do I have to hold you or will you follow me like a good girl?” He chastises, reaching over with his hand.

I flinch away from his grasp.

“Don’t. Touch. Me. I’ll follow,” I grumble, holding my head. “Just give me a sec,” I ask, curling into a ball on the ground, rubbing my temples. I lengthen my breathing rate, trying to stop focusing on the pain.

“Times up. Come on,”

I grimace and stand up, shaking my head a little. I notice Niall staring at me.

“What?” I scoff. “I do feel pain every once in awhile.”

“I knew that, I’m just surprised you actually showed and admitted it. I thought you had too much ego to expose your weakness. I guess I was wrong. Anyways,” he shrugs, before motioning for me to follow him.

I mock him behind his back, my hands clenching into fists.

“Brooke.”

I spin around rapidly, my chest colliding with Louis’s.

“Don’t play with fire,” he advises quietly, shaking his head before moving past me.

“Brooke for fucks sake I thought you we’re following!” Niall bellows.

“God,” I mutter, hurrying behind the blonde devil. “What’s the hurry?”

“You’ll see,” he answers simply, walking calmly through the house. We stop in front of a door. I frown, the sound of someone struggling from inside that room worrying me.

“Niall what is going on?” I ask.

“This. This is going on,” he answers, opening the door swiftly. My eyes grow big as I see Zayn holding down a girl. A girl I know. Gabrielle. My best friend.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?!” I burst angrily, jumping on Zayn. I barely manage to wrap my hands around the bastard’s throat that I’m being pulled backwards by the roots of my hair.

“The fuck you think you’re doing?” Niall scoffs, keeping one hand tangled in my hair while holding my body to his with the other.

“She’s my friend! He’s fucking hurting her!” I protest, struggling in his grasp, my eyes fixed on Gabrielle. She’s gagged and clearly has been crying, splotches of red covering her face. “Niall let go of me!” _I should’ve killed him earlier._

“Cupcake, you are having the wrong reaction right now,” Niall warns, grip tightening.

“Wrong reaction?! So you’re saying I shouldn’t react when somebody is assaulting my friend? What is your problem?!” I say scornfully.

“You’re my problem. You’re weak and I don’t like it.”

“I don’t live to please you so yes, you’ll end up deceived most of the time because I don’t belong  nor do I want to fit in your stupid gang!” I tell him venomously.

“Zayn.”

I watch horrified as the dark boy pulls out a knife from his pocket, bringing it near Gabrielle’s face. The brunette struggles, the sound of her scream strangled by the gag.

“I think you should reconsider, Brooke,” Niall says simply, “because your friend is going to be the one paying the price for your recklessness.”

I shut my eyes. _What to do. What to do._

“You’re too fucking slow.”

“No!” I yell as Zayn nicks her cheek, a pebble of blood forming on her cheekbone. “Stop! Please!”

“Are you going to make an effort?”

“Yes! But you’ve got to let her go!”

“Nope. Zayn’s going to keep her nice and cozy here until I am absolutely positive you are doing your very best to try to fit in,” Niall denies, releasing me. “I’m the one doing the deals here, not the other way around. Either you accept it or.... Well I’m just going to let Zayn kill her and force you to cooperate either way.”

“You’re a monster,” I seethe.

“I’m the monster?” He laughs, shaking his head. “Cupcake, I wasn’t the one ready to shoot another human being in the head this morning,” he chuckles. “And I would bet a thousand pounds that you regret even hesitating to kill me this morning. Deep down, you’re just like me. You believe in fighting for what you think is right, no matter how many people you hurt doing so.”

“No,” I shake my head, letting his words sink in slowly. But a voice inside my head can’t help making me realize how right he is.

 

♣○♣○♣○♣

 

“How’d you find her?” I question once we’re back at Niall’s house. “Gabrielle. How did you get your filthy hands on her?” I probe, pushing Niall into the wall. “And how do I know that you won’t go for my father too hmm?” He doesn’t seem at all threatened, a smirk tugging on the corner of his lips.

“It’s funny how you think I actually owe you an answer, Cupcake,” he chuckles, letting me press him into the wall.

I grit my teeth, my fingers clenching on his jacket.

“Careful, its genuine leather,” Niall warns, prying my fingers off him.

“You didn’t answer me.”

“Nor do I need to.” The blonde moves to get me off him but I don’t budge, shoving him into the wall once more.

“You’ll fucking answer me Niall Horan!” I order, seeing red.

“Or what?”

“Or I’ll kick you in the balls,” I menace.

“I’d love to see you try,” he responds, his blue eyes daring me to do what I said I would. I stare at him fiercely, planning my next move. An unexpected wave of nausea hits me, troubling me momentarily. I feel dizzy. The second my hands release his jacket, his foot hooks behind my legs, making me tumble to the ground. He’s suddenly over me, straddling my chest. “You know, I never did tell you what that little chip Louis placed does,” he starts, sighing. “Well first, it tells me where you are at all times. Obviously. Secondly, it allows me to communicate with you whenever I want. So you can basically hear me 24/7 if I feel like it. Lastly, combined with the microphone in your wrist, it can let me hear what you’re hearing. Interesting ain’t it?”

“Fascinating,” I reply dryly. “Now get off me.”

I squirm, uneasy as Niall just stays there staring at me.

“Louis tracked your call at the hotel. That’s how we found your friend,” he says after a few seconds. “I literally know every single thing you do Brooke. I think it’s time you simply give in,” he purrs, caressing my face.

“Fuck. You.” I spew.

“God you’ve got me so aroused Cupcake when you talk like that, you have no idea...” the blonde groans, pressing his hips into mine. I shudder, feeling him hardening on my thigh. “I just want to fuck you against a wall, render you speechless with pain mingled with pleasure. I bet you’d love it.”

I stop breathing altogether, frozen in panic.

“Oh yes. You’d love to be roughened up.”

“In your sick dreams.”

He laughs, getting off me.

“You’ll be moaning my name by the end of the day Brooke, that I can guarantee,” he says, before heading towards the kitchen.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I suck, don't I? I'm terribly sorry....


	13. No Control

“What are you doing?” Niall’s sharp voice pulls me out of slumber. I blink a couple times before rubbing my eyes and sitting up on the couch.

“Aren’t I allowed to take a nap? My head fucking hurts and I can’t seem to think straight,” I reply, frowning. A look of concern crosses his face and he sits down beside me.

“Oh really?”

“Yes―” I flinch as he slaps me. “What was that for?!” I scowl.

“Letting a weakness show. Come on Brooke I thought you were better than that.”

“It didn’t give you the right to hit me!”

“The right?” he scoffs. “I don’t have the right to kill anybody yet I do it anyways... I don’t give a fuck about rights Cupcake.”

“Clearly,” I roll my eyes, rubbing my cheek. He squints at me, cocking his head sideways. “What?” I huff.

“Are you ready for today’s lesson?”

“No.”

“Control,” he responds anyways, standing up. I watch him cautiously as he talks. “When you master the ability of exerting control, nothing can stop you. Control of your opponent, of your emotions, of your pain, of your body,” he trails on, eyeing me. “Everything starts and ends with control.”

I look at him, bored.

“For instance, I control you because I have control over your weakness: your feelings towards other vulnerable human beings such as your friend.”

My fists clench and unclench, every single cell of my body itching for me to punch him.

“We’re going to do a little exercise okay?” He starts, positioning himself right in front of me. “I’m going to touch you―”

“There’s no fucking way―” I protest standing up but Niall pushes me back down, his fingers digging harshly into my shoulders.

“You don’t have a say in this. You are going to control the urge to move or else,” I watch him as he pulls out his phone, pressing two buttons before bringing it to his ear. “Or else your friend Gabrielle will pay,” he ends. “Zayn? Yeah. We’re working on control, catch my drift? Yeah. I’m putting you on speakerphone,” the blonde devil continues, before placing the phone on the table.

“Brooke?! Brooke!” Gabrielle’s muffled voice cries from the phone’s speaker. I struggle against Niall’s grip.

“You bastard if you hurt her―”

“You won’t do anything Brooke because she’s on the other side of town. Now sit the fuck down,” Niall snarls, pushing me into the couch once more. My breathing is heavy. I give him a death glare. “Don’t give me that look. Now remove your shirt.”

I scoff.

“No―”

“Zayn.”

I wince as I hear a shrill shriek from the phone.

“Okay! Okay, stop!” I shake my head, my fingers reaching for the hem of my shirt. “There!” I say, lifting it up my head. “Happy?” I scorn.

“Absolutely elated Cupcake,” he smirks. “Now don’t move and try to control yourself,” he trails on, his finger slowly sliding in the hollow of my neck and down my cleavage.

“I never thought you’d stoop low enough to rape a girl without her consent,” I say angrily, every single cell of my body fighting against my brain on whether to hit him or not.

He chuckles, his fingers tracing random shapes right over my left breast.

“I never said anything about rape Brooke. I do believe I’ll make you want me. That you’ll give me the permission.”

“Never,” I seethe.

His hand drops to cup a breast and I reflexively move to knee him in the groin.

“Ah ah ah,” he scolds, easily stopping my knee. “That’ll cost you. Remove your shorts.”

“No way―”

“Zayn.”

There’s another piercing shout coming out the phone, making me shudder.

“Fine! You’re a fucking dick!” I state, standing up to remove my shorts. “A real fucking dick!”

My breathing stops as his arms suddenly wrap themselves around my torso, his body pressing mine into his. I shiver as his hot breath tickles my neck.

“Want to know how much of a fucking dick I can be?” he mumbles hotly in my neck. His digits massage my exposed stomach. “Keep talking dirty and I can promise you you’ll find out,” he continues, pressing a long kiss at the side of my neck.

A ball of anxiety forms in the pit of my stomach and my breathing quickens.

“Remove your shorts love,” he whispers lustfully. “Or Gabrielle will pay the price.”

Unable to think properly, my hands drop down to my waist, pushing my shorts off my body.

“Good girl,” he purrs, hands sliding to hold my ass. My breath hitches. “You don’t hate this hmm?” He whispers, his hands massaging my skin as his chest presses against my back. “You’re so tense...C’mon loosen up.”

Niall bends his neck and nips the inside of my neck, his hands shifting to grab my chest possessively. I can’t help it. I lose control. I moan softly, feeling weak in the knees.

“Yes just like that...”

As soon as I realize my mistake, I rapidly step away from him, horrified.

“Why cupcake, the fun was just starting,” the Irish boy chuckles, advancing towards me.

“You’re sickening,” I whisper, backing away.

“Am I?” He cocks his head sideways. His hand reaches for his phone on the table and he shuts it. “Wanna know what’s really sickening? A girl that doesn’t react to a random stranger being shot. A girl that thinks she’s a superhero and does her own justice, not caring about the eventual repercussions it might have on her family and friends. A girl that gives herself the right to punish others because she thinks that what they’re doing isn’t right. That’s you Cupcake. That’s what you’ve been doing for the last couple of years.”

I shake my head rapidly.

“No―”

“Don’t you try denying it. Do you even know how many times you put your father and friend in danger without knowing? You say I’m sickening but you and I... We’re the same.”

“Stop!” I say, falling to my knees.

“You’ve killed people, just like me.”

“No I haven’t!”

“Yes you have. You just didn’t witness the actual death. But if leaving somebody bleeding with broken bones in an alley all alone is not killing them, then I don’t know what it is. At least I have the guts to end their misery right away.”

“Stop it I’m not like you!”

“No. You’re not. You’re much worse. Do you remember a certain Patrick Galangal?”

A very vivid memory of a middle-aged man with that exact name tag comes to my head. I recall cornering him in an alley on a stormy night after he’d stolen from a shop. After he’d threatened the cashier with a gun. For some reason I was beyond pissed that night, and I took it all out on him. The state I let him in gave me nightmares for days.

“You do remember, don’t you?” Niall continues, approaching me. “That man you left for dead in an alley barely three years ago? You broke a couple of his ribs, shattered his left leg and left a deep gash in his waist.”

“No I—”

But Niall doesn’t let me continue.

“Did you know he had a two year old daughter and a loving wife? Did you even realise, as you beat him up, that you we’re sentencing this innocent little girl to a life without her father?”

“I didn’t kill him!” I protest, tears of anger burning my eyes and blurring my vision.

“You’re right. You didn’t kill him,” the blonde concedes, his hands latching around my wrists whilst his eyes gazed into mine. “No you did much worse Brooke. You let him suffer slowly. You let his wounds be the death of him.”

“No it’s not true! You can’t know all of this, you made it up!” I shake my head, feelings my knees weaken. I didn’t kill him I just severely hurt him!

“It’s very true love. And as how I know all of this, well I had Louis track down everything he could about you since the last ten years. I know everything you did.”

“If really I was the one responsible for his death then why wasn’t I arrested hmm?” I counter, still refusing to believe I was a murderer. “Surely they would’ve found fingerprints or something─”

“Unless you didn’t touch him with your bare hands. That which was a smart move,” he replies. “The only fingerprints left on that man were the ones of gang members so the authorities blamed them. Patrick Galangal had stolen a shop for his own survival: he owed money to the leader and if he didn’t pay his due before sundown, he’d be killed. Really, you saved them the killing,” he ends.

Shock fills me as I take in what he’d told me. I feel as if I hit a brick wall. I killed someone. I killed a man and probably destroyed that little girl’s life. _What if he owed money to the gang leader because he was only trying to get some food for his family?_ I think in horror. Pain drowns me and I find myself letting out a choked sob, crumbling to the floor. _What have I done? Who did I become? After all this time, had I really become who I fought? Had I become my worst enemy?_

I knew the answer yet I couldn’t bring myself to even think about it. More tears seep out of my eyes, saddened whimpers making their way past my lips.

“Don’t cry Brooke,” Niall coos, picking me up from the floor. “I don’t care how many people you’ve killed or hurt. I accept you.”

Too desperate for some kind of consolation, I let him hold me in his arms, forgetting for mere seconds the fact that I was hugging a murderer. _Why is he even showing kindness right now? I tried to kill him this morning._ My thoughts jumble messily in my head as I try to make out the right from the wrong.

“I accept you Brooke because I’ve learned to accept myself. We’re the same,” Niall continues softly, his piercing eyes upon me forcing me to pay attention to him. I find myself drinking his every word avidly.

Slowly, the blonde leans forwards, his gaze now focused on my lips. “We’re the same,” he repeats before his lips join mine in a heated kiss. _I need to be punished. I deserve everything that’s coming to me._ My brain shuts off any rational part of my mind left; letting guilt and my undeniable attraction for Niall take over.

I respond to the kiss. It feels phenomenal to give in. To be vulnerable just this once.

“I’ll show you. I’ll show you how okay it can be to be like me,” he continues between fervent kisses, his hands tangled in my dark hair.

“Shut up!” I spew, my own fingers grasping his neck as I reel him in for another kiss. “Just shut up and fuck me,” I beg, more tears surfacing. _Was I really begging for this? Yes, I deserve it._ “Please.”

“With great pleasure,” he retorts, hauling me in his arms.

In no time at all, I’m brought up the stairs and thrown on the bed in his room. He’s rapidly all over me, his body pressing mine into the mattress, his hands and mouth latching on everything they can reach.

“Shirt. Off.” I mutter, hands clenching on the fabric.

He smirks, pausing his actions for mere seconds while his fingers grab the hem of his shirt and pull it up and over his head. As soon as his skin is exposed, my hands clutch his shoulders, digging my nails into his soft flesh. He grunts, his own hands palming my breasts aggressively whilst his mouth leaves a trail of wet kisses down my neck. I whimper.

Seconds later, my bra is being unhooked. Niall shifts so he’s grabbing my right leg, wrapping it around his waist. I groan and shut my eyes as he slowly massages my left ass cheek, his head still buried in the crook of my neck.

I wince in shock as his hand suddenly slams down on my ass.

“Wh―”

I’m silenced by his mouth on mine.

“Because. You and I. Both know. You like it rough,” he breathes between kisses before his hand descends on my ass once more. I can practically feel the mark it’s going to leave.

I flinch as he tears off my panties off my body. His hand automatically moves to cup my nether region, making me gasp at the warm contact.

“You’re so wet Cupcake. So wet for me,” he groans, his digits scissoring shallowly into my folds.

I moan, shutting my eyes in newfound lust. His name escapes my lips without my consent. As soon as it does, he’s off me and off the bed, going to the dresser.

I frown as I watch him dig into the brown leather box I’d found just yesterday night.

Before I can utter a single protest, he’s walking back over to me, handcuffs dangling between his fingertips.

“Niall―”

“You’ll like this I promise,” he shushes, straddling my waist as he reaches for both my wrists and holds them over my head. I blink as he cuffs me to the bed. “There.”

A spark of reason makes its way into my head but it’s gone as soon as Niall’s lips latch onto mine in another hungry kiss. His fingers splayed on my chest, the blonde descends his kisses down my chin, moving sensually downwards until he reaches my throbbing center.

“I’m guessing you’ve never been eaten out before hmm?” he breathes, making me shiver. “Because you’re a virgin and all...”

“How do you even know I’m a virgin,” I shake my head rapidly, incredulous.

“Louis,” is all he replies before his tongue darts out to lick my folds.

A small shriek of surprise comes out of my lips, the feeling totally new and exhilarating. I reflexively pull on the handcuffs. My back arches as he repeats the movements several times. Moans start pouring out of me though once he starts shoving his tongue inside me.

“Niall please,” I beg, tugging on my handcuffs. “Fucking hell don’t stop! Ever!” I continue pitifully, relishing the sensation his tongue brought. I feel as my skin is on fire, the hottest points being every single spot Niall is touching.

My breathing hitches and my back arches as he oh so ever lightly bites the inside of my thigh before resuming his tongue-fucking. My orgasm builds painstakingly, the Irish boy clearly knowing how to please a woman.

I shake my head rapidly though when his pace starts slowing down, my climax nearing.

“Niall please!” I whine, bucking my hips. He pulls away completely, a devilish smirk on his face. “No don’t stop please!”

“Yes.”

“No!” I pull the handcuffs, desperately wanting to grab the blonde’s head and force him down on me so he can at least finish the job. “No you can’t do that!” I almost cry, the release so close it’s painful.

“I most certainly can Cupcake. For three reasons. First, I told you you’d be fully willing when we’d do this properly and you’re not; you only shut off a part of your mind. Second, you don’t deserve that orgasm. At all. You’ve been a little bitch for the last two days. And lastly, well you failed today’s lesson. You completely lost control of your emotions.”

I frown, anger filling me.

“You do realise that you’re never going to have the chance to have me like that again hmm? That this is the only time that I’ll be somewhat willing?” I threaten, the rational part of my mind finally pushing away the troubled and confused one.

“Oh really?” He cocks his eyebrow upwards, leaning over me. “I warned you you’d be begging for me before the end of the day, didn’t I? And look,” he motions my hot and bothered, naked state, “it appears I kept my promise didn’t I? This proves that the first part of you is broken Brooke. And I’m fairly sure I’ll manage to break all of you at one point, and have you completely willing,” he smiles, grabbing his shirt from beside the bed. “Now I have to go, there are a few problems in town I have to take care of. Again,” he huffs, arranging his shirt. He moves to leaves but stops in the doorway. “Want me to get Louis to undo the handcuffs or―”

“I’ll manage,” I snap angrily. _No way in hell Louis’d see me naked. Niall was more than enough._

“Fine,” he shrugs. “See ya tonight, murderer,” he ends before leaving. His words crush my heart. _A murderer._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm terribly sorry I haven't updated sooner! XXX I love you all and I wish you a happy New Year


	14. Tricks

Several minutes pass as I try removing the handcuffs, without much success. Unlike last time, my wrists are completely scorched, practically torn off. Pulling them out is unthinkable.

“Fucking hell!” I curse, shaking my wrists and making the handcuffs rattle. “Motherfucking stupid Irish bastard asshole!” I yell angrily.

“Damn, you’ve got a dirty mouth,” Louis’ voice states from the door frame.

My eyes grow big as I see him leaning on the door frame. Rapidly, I flip myself around so my butt is the only thing he can see.

“And you’re quite a sight,” he adds.

“And you’re quite the pervert! Get out of here!” I snarl, looking at him briefly over my shoulder.

“Well I thought you’d want help with the handcuffs but if you wish to stay naked until Niall comes back, be my guest,” he states simply.

“I don’t need help.”

“Like I said, suit yourself. Niall will be more than pleased to find you like this when he returns. To find you exposed and helpless before him again.”

The thought of Niall coming back to me still being naked disgusts me. More than it disgusts me to let Louis help me.

“Fine,” I utter lowly before he can leave. “Help me out of those stupid handcuffs.”

“Please?”

“Please,” I snap.

“No,” he states simply. _What?!_

“Why not?!” I scoff angrily.

“Because. I don’t feel like it.”

“Seriously?! What kind of response is that?!”

“An honest one.”

It’s then I lose patience.

“What the fuck do you want Louis?!”

There’s a brief moment of silence.

“What?”

“You fucking heard me. What do you want me to do in order for you to help me get these off?” I state, annoyed.

“I want many things Brooke, yet I doubt you can fulfill one.”

“Can you stop being so god damn vague?! I’m naked and irritated over here. Trust me; it’s not a good mix,” I huff, the cold air on my naked skin making me highly uncomfortable.

 He chuckles. “If I help you out, you’ll owe me a favor.”

“What kind of favor?”

“That’s for me to know.”

I stiffen as I hear him walk closer to me. His finger slides down my backbone.

“Don’t. Touch. Me.” I warn, shuddering. He snorts, before his hands wrap around the handcuffs and undo them in one swift movement.

I slide under the sheets rapidly, wanting to cover as much skin as possible.

Louis watches me, the handcuffs dangling from his fingers.

“How’d you do that?” I frown, looking at him from under the covers.

“Do what?”

“The handcuffs...You practically slipped them off my wrists without opening them,” I remark. He smiles.

“You learn a couple of practical tricks when you’re in a gang Brooke...Maybe you’ll end up learning some of them,” he shrugs, before placing the handcuffs on the bedside table and walking out of Niall’s bedroom without another word.

I take a moment to sort out my thoughts before wrapping the sheets around my body and heading to the closet where I’d found girl clothes last night. Picking a shirt, a pair of considerably torn jeans as well as underwear, I hurry into the bathroom and jump into the shower, eager to get the touch of Niall off my body.

As I let the water wash away my previous activities, I find myself gazing at the red mark on my left wrist, right above the skin torn due to the times I’ve been handcuffed. I press on the area lightly with my finger, massaging the surrounding skin lightly to locate the small microphone. I grimace when I feel it under my finger, right under the line following the thumb. _How am I going to get rid of that without chopping my hand off?! And my ear?! How am I going to get the microchip in my ear out?!_

Annoyed, I grunt in a way that’s far from being feminine before resuming my complete body sanitizing. I don’t bother hurrying: he’s going to pay the water bill anyways, might as well make it expensive.

When I finally do step out of the shower, I come across my reflection in the mirror. My fingers clench around a towel and I wrap it around my body, keeping my eyes fixed on the object.

My eyes bore into the mirror’s image. A pained look crosses its features.

Never in a million years had I wanted to be associated with that word. Ever. It was everything I had fought against since 8th grade.  _Murderer._ Niall’s voice rings truthfully in my ears. _How many lives had I destroyed whilst thinking I was doing the right thing?_ _Who am I to decide what’s wrong and what’s right anyways?_

I let my thoughts drag me down momentarily, before tightening the towel and frowning. _This is exactly what Niall wants me to think. Well fuck him. If I’m going to fight for something, I’m going to do it for something meaningful: my freedom and his downfall._

_“Hey Brooke!”_

Niall’s voice echoes loudly through the microchip in my ear, making me jump. _Talk of the devil and he shall appear._

 _“Cupcake I know you can hear me,”_ he sing songs.

I don’t answer.

_“Fine then, don’t reply. But I want dinner on the table when I’m back alright? That gives you about two or three hours to whip up something better than a sandwich.”_

“No way. I’m not a fucking maid you can order around to do your domestic chores,” I snarl, crossing my arms over my chest as my gaze stays fixed on the mirror.

 _“Sweetness...That attitude isn’t gonna work with me. You do as I say and you get... rewarded,”_ he continues through the microchip.

“The only reward I want is the chance to fucking bash your blonde head into the floor,” I retort.

 _“You know what? You make me dinner, and that can be arranged,”_ he responds smoothly. _“Anyway, gotta go. I’m a busy man. Ciao.”_

“Jesus Christ,” I grumble, finally tearing my eyes away from my reflection and dressing myself. “You’re pathetic Horan. Really pathetic and infuriating and a fucking bastard,” I trail on heatedly, pulling the shirt over my head and sliding into the jeans. “And you’re not even a man. You’re a boy. A careless teenager,” I rant, stepping outside the bathroom.

“Do you talk to yourself a lot?”

My heart stops in my chest when I see Harry Styles carelessly leaning on the side of the door where I’d just walked out.

“Because I seriously don’t recall you doing that when we were in high school.”

“We’re you fucking spying on me?!” I exclaim, irritated.

“I wasn’t spying,” he denies, holding his hands up in mock surrender. “Someone has to look after you when Niall’s gone and Louis’ down in the lab. We don’t have the time right now to run after you,” he shrugs.

“Well I wasn’t talking to myself. Niall was talking to me.”

“Oh really? And what did he want?”

“A maid,” I say dryly. “I told him to fuck off.”

“You’d look hot in a maid costume,” he remarks.

“Aren’t you supposed to be wounded?” I huff, pulling my hair up in a ponytail before stepping out of Niall’s room and heading to the library I saw yesterday.

“Wounded doesn’t mean I have to stay in bed all day. It just forces me to be stronger,” he explains, following me. “What exactly are you doing?” he enquires as we reach the door that leads to the library. He places himself in front of the door just as I’m about to turn the handle. “You’re not allowed in there,” he shakes his head.

“Why not? It’s only books.”

“Why do you want books?”

“Styles step out of my way if you don’t want a repeat of high school’s events,” I menace. His eyebrow cocks up.

“Which part Brooke hmm?” he enquires. “The part where I was the one beating you up or―”

“The part where I kicked your fucking ass. You’re not the one who has an advantage here, I am,” I point out, nudging his wounded side with my hand.

“I’m pretty sure I’d still manage to beat you with my ‘injury’,” he boasts.

“I doubt that Curly.”

There’s the sound of breaking glass downstairs, making both our heads turn. In a matter of seconds, Harry is pulling out a gun from his belt and hustling down the stairs three steps at a time.

“Louis?!” he calls throughout the house.

Seizing the opportunity to break out, I run to the window at the end of the hall. A very climbable tree is sitting right outside, inviting me to climb out the window and down the tree’s trunk. Unable to resist, I open the window and slip my legs out, my arms latching on the tree’s branches.

 _“Brooke get back inside the house right now!”_ Niall commands from the microchip. I ignore him. _“Brooke Evans get back inside the fucking house right now before you make matters worse for yourself. You do know there’s a GPS sitting in your ear right? You’re really stupid if you really try to hiding from me. I can kill your friend, track you down, and make you regret being born,”_ he snarls.

I clench my eyes shut. Gabrielle _. I can’t simply let her die like that. Not because of me. I need to stay for her._

_“You want more deaths at your hands? Fine by me.”_

“No!” I protest, my fists clenching. “Alright I’m going back in the fucking house!” I reply, hitting the tree trunk with my fist in anger. “God fucking dammit I hate you!” I storm, climbing back up the tree and hoisting myself through the window and into the house.

Harry’s there to greet me.

“Well that’s unexpected,” he states, his fingers wrapping tightly around my bicep as he drags me downstairs. “I leave for barely five seconds to investigate on the glass Louis broke accidently, only to see you climbing inside the house through the window,” he chuckles.

“If Niall was a proper man and didn’t use threats against me, I’d be long gone,” I reply heatedly.

“But Niall isn’t a proper man: he leads a gang. Boohoo. Deal with it.”

Harry drags me to the kitchen before pushing me towards the fridge.

“No way,” I shake my head, taking three steps away.

“Yes way. You’re making food. Niall’s orders.”

“To hell with his orders!” I snap.

He chuckles, taking a seat on the counter.

“Why do you even listen to him Harold?” I enquire. “Don’t you hate being someone’s dog?”

“A, Brookie, don’t call me Harold. And B, I’m not his dog. I’m free to go when I please. But I choose to stay because I like the thrill. I love this life and the freedom it procures to be king of the streets with the lads.”

I roll my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest while leaning on the fridge.

“You’d like it too you know?” Harry points out.

“No way,” I snort

“You want to be like every other human being Brooke? Stuck in a suffocating office 8 hours a day, just waiting for the weekend?”

“Not every job is like that,” I snap.

“So you're saying not every job ends up repeating itself over time? Not every single one of them ends up making you beg for weekends and holidays?”

“You're generalizing,” I deny, knowing deep down that he's right. That whatever I choose to do in a couple of years, I'm doomed to end up doing the same thing, over and over again.

“But no other job is like ours. No other job can provide you the excitement and danger I know you crave. The excitement and danger Niall knows you crave,” he explains. I clench my fists, highly irritated.

“Niall knows nothing about me apart from the information Louis fished out of nowhere. He knows what everybody knows, nothing more, nothing less. No one truly knows me,” I respond dryly.

Harry shakes his head, but doesn't add to the matter.

“Anyways, supper,” he says, motioning the kitchen. “You better get to work before Niall comes back if you want things to run smoothly for your friend,” he trails on.

“I don't even know how to fucking cook!” I storm. “The best I can do is a sandwich and he doesn't want that!”

Harry thinks for a moment.

“How about spaghetti?”

“I don't want to feed that bastard!” I persist.

“You don't have much choice, Cupcake.”

“Don't fucking call me that!” I snap, losing my cool. “Niall is more than enough.”

“Don't get your knickers in a twist love, it's only a term of endearment,” he chuckles. I resist the strong urge to grab a kitchen knife and throw it at his head only because I know it'd end up killing Gabrielle in the long shot.

“How about chicken?” he proposes.

“No.”

“Well then-”

“Pancakes,” I realise, smirking decidedly.

“Excuse me, what?”

“I'm going to make pancakes,” I repeat. “It's one of the few things I can actually do properly. Bastard can make himself a sandwich if he's not happy with it,” I declare, searching into the cupboards for a bowl.

“You're purposefully looking for trouble Brooke―”

“And Niall is purposefully searching for my fist in his Irish face,” I shrug, setting for a large bowl. I rummage in the refrigerator and pull out two eggs, butter and milk. I crack the eggs into the bowl before incorporating the butter and milk. “Where are the dry ingredients?” I enquire to Harry, pulling out a spoon.

“Top right cupboard,” he sighs.

I stand on my tippy toes and reach for the flour, sugar and baking soda, placing them beside the bowl.

“Measuring cups?”

“Bottom left drawer,” he replies, looking at me with a frown.

“What?”

“You should be doing this in a maid costume,” he answers. “A very small one,” he adds, licking his lips.

I flip him off; sorry I even asked the question. Paying no more attention to the curly-haired gang-member, I pour the flour as well as a coup of sugar and a spoonful of baking soda into the bowl, before mixing all the ingredients together with the spoon.

“Do you have chocolate chips?”

“Are you serious?” he scoffs, incredulous.

“Very. I like mine chocolaty.”

“Over there,” he huffs, motioning the cabinets over the fridge. I grab the bag, spilling a generous amount in the bowl with the pancake mix. Smiling, I return them to their initial place.

 As soon as I'm done, I pour the bowl's contents into a large measuring cup and pull out a pan I fell upon a few seconds earlier.

“How much time until Niall returns?” I question.

“About an hour.”

“Great. So now I’m free for another 45 minutes if I want the pancakes to be hot for his return.”

“What are you going to do until then?”

“None of your business.” _I want to go see the library._

“It is my business Brooke, because I'm responsible for you until Niall's return. One word from me to Niall and your friend is going down.”

I squint at him in annoyance.

“How about I teach you something else while we wait?” he suggests.

“Fine then. I want to know how Louis slipped my handcuffs off so easily earlier.” _So that next time Niall handcuffs me, I can simply take them off without tearing my skin every single time._

“It's not a practical trick. Many gangs know it now so they don't see the point for handcuffing while in an interrogatory. They use more tortuous methods actually...” his gaze seems to lose itself for mere seconds before his eyes land back on mine. “How about picking a lock? That can be pretty damn useful when you're imprisoned somewhere.”

“Like here?” I grumble sarcastically.

“There are alarm systems here, it isn't as simple as picking a lock: there's a whole system to unarm and that alone takes a lot of experience.”

“Then I don't see the point in learning that shit,” I retort, rolling my eyes. “I'm not going to be part of this wretched gang. Never ever. I don't even see the point. “

“The point is, you're a girl. You're attractive.”

“And poor Niall can't get any girls so he kidnaps one in order to empty his balls in something other than a tissue?” I scoff.

“You're destabilizing, Brooke, which means we can use you as an advantage,” he explains, ignoring my comment.

My eyes grow big as I connect the dots.

“I'm bait?! What the actual fuck?!” I stand up.

“You're not bait; you're an asset. If we simply needed bait, any other pretty girl would've done the job, stupid. Bait doesn't need to fight back. An asset does. That's why we're working on forging your stubborn ass attitude, your goddamn emotions and your poor fighting skills. Your body is just a plus Niall is taking advantage of.”

“I'm not going to let him take advantage of me. He can go fuck himself for all I care. And I'm not going to do his dirty work, nor be his 'asset': I don't kill people,” I reply, my throat tightening at my last words.

“You and I both know you just lied. But fine, keep thinking that way. You're way more amusing when you think you're being badass and rebellious,” Harry shrugs, glancing at the time. “Nevertheless, there are about 40 minutes left. What do you want to do?”

“Nothing. Absolutely nothing,” I state dryly, stepping outside the kitchen and taking a seat on the couch. I sigh loudly before crossing my arms and ankles, gazed fixed at the black television screen as if in a trance.

Half an hour later, I stand up and reluctantly set the table for two, Harry telling me that he and Louis would head back to their own home as soon as Niall returns. I don’t pry, wanting as few gang members in the house as possible.

I start the first batch of pancakes as Louis walks into the kitchen.

“Brooke I really hope you prepared a nice meal because he's in one of those moods―Oh my god.” He stops in his tracks as he notices the pancake batter. “You did bloody pancakes? You can't be serious. What are you, 10 years old?! Jesus Christ,” he shakes his head, astounded. “I'm out as soon as he enters: I do not want to see what he does to you.”

“He said no sandwiches,” I shrug. “I'm respecting his rule technically,” I reason, flipping the first pancake. Harry and Louis look at each other longly in disappointment. Harry shrugs his shoulders and Louis exhales loudly, also giving up on adding anything else.

The door opens soon after, announcing Niall's arrival.

“And we're out,” Louis declares rapidly, he and Harry grabbing their jackets hurriedly before heading outside.

“What was that all about, Cupcake?” Niall asks warningly, hanging his own jacket on a peg.

“I don't know, they didn't like my meal choice,” I reply simply, finishing up the last of the batter.

Niall stops as he enters the kitchen, looking at me before looking at the plate of pancakes on the table set for two. He repeats the action four or five times, as if making sure he isn't dreaming, before he speaks.

“Pancakes. You made pancakes,” he states dumbly, blinking twice.

“Yup,” I nod, popping the 'p'. “I felt like eating pancakes so I made pancakes. Make yourself a sandwich if you don't want any,” I continue fearlessly, taking a seat at the table and placing two pancakes on my plate. To my great surprise, Niall takes a seat at the other end of the table, also grabbing pancakes for himself.

“You’re trying to irritate me...why?” he questions, taking the maple syrup and spreading it over his food.

“I am not trying to irritate you: I wanted fucking pancakes so I made them. Plus, I didn't want to make you, of all people, a fancy dinner. You don't deserve my time or effort,” I explain simply.

“Well I'm more than glad to notice you're finally thinking about yourself Cupcake, but being lazy is not the way to do it,” the blonde says calmly, cutting his pancakes. I stare at him as he takes a hungry bite out of the food I just made.

“When are you going to get Zayn to release my friend?” I demand, also taking a bite of the pastry.

“Not any time soon, Cupcake. She keeps you right where I want you to be.”I clench my teeth.“Maybe when you'll end up detaching yourself from her, losing that vulnerability, I’ll consider letting her go,” he continues.

My fist slams on the table, making utensils clink.

“You don't need to get her involved in this shit!” I protest.

“You're the one who involved her when you called her at that hotel two days ago. It's because of you that Louis retraced the call,” Niall declares without much concern.

I’m fuming by the time he’s finished with his plate.

“So Cupcake, you made dinner. Not what I expected, yet, you made one anyways. So you get rewarded,” he announces, standing up.

“Oh really?!” I enquire sarcastically, dumping my plate and utensils in the sink. “The only reward I want is either my freedom or the opportunity to smash your face in concrete floor.”

“Fine then. How would you feel about a one on one combat against me before we go to bed hmm?” He suggests innocently. “It can compensate for the opportunity to smash my face into concrete, as you so poetically put it. You claim you can beat me if Liam isn’t around...”

“First, there is no ‘before ‘we’ go to bed’ because there’s no way I’m sleeping with you. And secondly, I know I can beat you,” I defend, crossing my arms over my chest.

“Well if you’re so confident, let’s go to the basement yeah?” He smiles, approaching me. “Winner decides on the sleeping plans.”

I purse my lips. It’s risqué. _I don’t want to have to sleep beside him again._

 “Come on love, I dare you,” he whispers, his Irish accent strong in my ear.

“You’re on,” I states, pushing him away from me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I really hope you liked this chapter! I'm so sorry for the long ass time between updates! :$ Xxx


	15. Physical Assets

Niall cracks his knuckles as he leads me downstairs to the basement, then into the room where I’d fought Harry yesterday. He shuts the door behind me.

“Ready to lose Cupcake?” he enquires, smiling at me cockily.

“I could ask you the same thing Horan,” I snap, flexing my wrists.

He chuckles, cracking his neck.

“So how do you wanna do this?” he continues. “Naked?”

“In your fucking dreams!” I snarl taking a step forwards. He laughs and smirks, shaking his head.

“Calm down love. Let’s set some rules alright? Just to make sure we keep all our teeth and don't break the other beyond repair.”

“Why? Are you scared to break a couple of ribs?” I sneer.

“On the contrary Brookie, I just don't want _my_ toy to be broken when I play with her tonight.”

My blood boils in my veins, fists clenching.

“You're vile and disgusting! Fuck you and your rules,” I state, poised to jump on him.

“That’s not what you were saying this morning hmm?” he shakes his head, smirking. “It sounded more like ‘Niall, don’t stop! Please!’ as you writhed under my touch,” he continues, approaching me nonchalantly.

A shiver racks my body and suddenly, my fist heads towards his face. He’s quick to stop it with his hand. I turn half way and shove my other elbow into his ribs before sending my foot down on his thigh. My leg slides under his, flinging him on his back.

On his back like a turtle on his shell, he laughs, clapping like a seal.

“You are so fucking predictable Brooke,” he chuckles, standing back up. His left hand snaps up suddenly, distracting me long enough for him to kick my shins. I fall to my knees and Niall swiftly positions himself behind me, pressing his own knee to my back whilst pulling my arms backwards painfully. I hear a bone in my shoulder crack. “So as I was saying: rules.”

I try to shrug out of his grasp but my bones forbid me to do so.

“Two things alright? First: you don’t get to aim for my genitals alright? They have a sentimental value and they have proven to be very… useful. Secondly, neither of us are allowed to do something that can put our lives in jeopardy or which may result in the requirement of important medical attention. Am I clear?” he ends, dropping my arms.

“Lives in jeopardy? Are you serious?” I scoff, pulling myself back to my feet to face him.

“Yes. For example, strangling isn’t allowed, nor anything that could break a member,” he nods gravely. “We’re only playing a little game after all…”

“You’re the one that’s playing. I’m not,” I state, changing my stance to one that’s slightly more relaxed. “But okay fine, I agree to your rules. But here are mine: you don’t get to assault the other psychologically. It’s a physical combat, not a psychological one.”

“Ah? You don’t want me to rile you up with your murder?”

I shut my eyes and clench my teeth.

“Exactly.”

“Is talking allowed at all? Say I want to compliment your technique or even you in general… Is that permitted?” he proposes innocently.

“Your words hold no particular value to me so you can say what you want about me or my technique, it won’t affect me.”

“We’ll see about that,” he states almost to himself.

“Last thing: no hair pulling. That’s sissy stuff.”

“Yet it hurts,” he points out.

“Are my rules clear?” I retort dryly.

“Sure. Easy enough. No endangering moves, no psychological assaults, no hair pulling and no damaging the other’s genitalia. Have I forgotten anything?”

“Don’t go back on what you said,” I snap. “How do we declare the winner?” I continue, ready to attack any second now.

“The winner is the one who manages to hold the other one down on the floor for a full ten seconds. Just like a UFC match if you will.”

“Good.”

“Ready then?”

I don’t even take the time to answer him. I simply jump, focused on winning this. There was absolutely no way I’d let him choose the sleeping arrangements.

I throw a rapid right punch.

He blocks it with his forearm but I’m quick to reply with a left hook. I barely manage to graze his skin. I grunt in annoyance, shifting my weight hastily before spinning around and lowering my upper body to send my right foot in his stomach.

It’s his turn to grunt, staggering backwards.

I seize the occasion to lower myself even more and send my leg forwards, hooking behind his in a swift movement. He falls on his back. But he’s quick to catapult himself back to his feet, taking me by surprise by sending a blow behind my own knees. I roll to my left, escaping his hands before pushing myself back on two steady feet.

We stay like that for several seconds, simply eyeing the other.

I dress up a mental portrait of his moot points, noting his recent wound right below the left side of his ribcage as well as the mildly obvious weakness in his right thigh. My gaze trails to the faint yet visible sheet of sweat already covering his face. _So he’s already tired._

“Cupcake I know I’m fun to look at, but we’re supposed to be fighting remember? This is your reward and you’re not taking advantage of it...”

I step forward, momentarily blinded by the surge of anger his words bring. It’s all it takes him to throw a fake punch and shove his knee in my stomach.

I stagger backwards and he presses himself to me, pressing my body into the wall harshly. His fingers dig harshly into my wrists as he nails them on either side of my body, as far away from each other as possible to minimize my resistance. I try to move him away but his body is like a block of steel. His strength clearly is a consequence of several years of careful training.

“I owed you that,” he states. “And you really shouldn’t fight if you’re fueled by anger,” he adds more quietly. “Emotions make one weak and clumsy. You forget your basic instincts and you’re rapidly overthrown by your opponent,” he continues in my ear, pressing his body even closer to mine. He breathes deeply in my neck and I find myself shivering.

I send my knee into his right thigh. He lets go of me for a mere second but it’s all I need. I send my hand harshly into his wounded side. He curls around himself and I send one more punch in the middle of his chest, cutting his breath.

I kick his knees to the side and he falls. I jump on him, putting all my weight on his forearms to pin them to the floor. He easily overpowers me, throwing his weight sideways so he’s the one who ends up on top.

“You’re not very heavy love...” he whispers, his face inches from mine. “You can’t possibly hope to hold me down with your weight.”

I push his chest, heaving as I attempt to get him to budge. Something warm and wet touches my fingers.

“You have 5 seconds left love.”

“You’re fucking bleeding!” I state, looking at the growing wet stain on his t-shirt, right where I hit his wound. My hand is stained with crimson.

“And?”

Panicking as I realise he’s about to win, I dig my hands into his wound. A pained sound escapes his lips, destabilizing him long enough for me to roll myself back over him, straddling his waist. I’m hit by an idea.

Without thinking it through out of fear of losing, I place my hands on his shoulders and lean forwards to give him an eyeful of cleavage. _1, 2._

Almost immediately, I feel his whole body stiffening under mine. His blue eyes lock on mine, one eyebrow cocking upwards. _3, 4_. But I don’t stop there. I bend down to his ear.

“Niall,” I moan softly, rolling my hips into his teasingly. His arousal rapidly makes itself known, his hands latching on my hips to keep me pressed against him. I’m slightly sickened but I don’t move. _5, 6, 7, 8_.

And then, just to make sure I really pass the ten second mark, I grab his hands and place them on my chest for a full 2 seconds. _9, 10._

“I won!” I declare, jumping to my feet and away from him. “It’s been ten seconds! I won!” I repeat proudly. I freeze as the barrel of his gun is suddenly pointed at me, the hammer pulled backwards. “You fucking cheat-”

“I’m not cheating. This is simply to assure your collaboration for the following events,” he replies, his free hand cupping his bleeding side. He pulls it away from his body and makes an annoyed huff, watching his bloody digits. He sighs and shrugs. “But you should know that I take your victory with a certain pride,” he adds, wiping the blood on his jeans.

“And why is that?” I sneer, crossing my arms over my chest in irritation.

“You decided to use you feminine assets against me, hence why I let you win,” he elaborates. I make an insulted sound but he pays no notice of it. “Not only did it please me, but it also proved that you might be able to fulfill your purpose in the gang after all.”

I clench my teeth and my fists. _Of course. Of fucking course that was the ultimate goal of this little fight._

“I wouldn’t have done it if the prize wasn’t getting to sleep away from you,” I retort. “This is no guarantee that I’ll do the same in another situation.”

“You’ve proven that you’re ready to degrade yourself if it means getting something you want. And that’s enough for me,” he counters. “Anyhow, I’m not going back on my word: you’ll get what you want. But first off, both of us are going to shower. Thanks to you, we’re covered in blood,” he huffs, motioning our bloody clothes. “I’ll show you how to stitch up a wound while we’re at it. Then, I’ll let you consider your options: sleeping on a warm and comfortable bed with me or on the floor beside it.”

“The floor. No question there,” I state.

He chuckles and shakes his head, gun still pointed at me. “Out we go now and up to my room,” he concludes, motioning the door.

Clenching my fists, I find myself walking out the ‘training room’ and up the stairs leading out of the basement, all while considering the idea of running away once more. I quickly glance behind me and forget the idea almost immediately, knowing by the look on his face that he wouldn’t hesitate to send a bullet through my leg if I dared to run.

“Do you care about planet Earth?” Niall asks suddenly, as we reach his room.

“Why?” I huff, not seeing the purpose of his question.

“I’m the one asking questions love. Answer me.”

“Why wouldn’t I care about planet Earth? I mean, I live on it,” I retort.

“Good. So you wouldn’t be opposed to water saving?” He trails on. I frown. “Because if we shower together―”

“No. No way,” I retort quickly. He chuckles.

“I had to ask. You did grind on me and give me the permission to grope your chest so I thought you weren’t as reluctant to physical contact―”

“As I said earlier, what I did in the training room was a onetime thing. I didn’t want to sleep in the same bed as you so I did what I had to do,” I snap. “Now could you please stop pointing your gun at me? I won’t go anywhere _tonight_.”

“True. You won’t be going anywhere until _I_ say so,” he acknowledges, putting the weapon in the back of his trousers. He leads me inside the bathroom. “Shower first while I get the stuff to stitch myself up,” the blonde devil instructs. “Clothes will be right outside the door when you’re done. Don’t take too long or I might just barge in: my bathroom doesn’t have a lock,” he ends, shutting the door behind him.

Annoyed, I hurry out of my current clothes and rapidly wash Niall’s blood as well as today’s events off my body. I’m in and out of the shower in less than five minutes. Wrapping a towel tightly around my body, I open the bathroom door and grab the pile of clothes at my feet. I slip the shorts and camisole on just as the Irish boy walks through the door, first aid kit in his bloody hands.

He places it on the counter before removing his shirt, shooting me a quick glance.

“Good girl. You did as asked for once,” he points out, dipping a small cloth into water before pressing it into his side. “You’re finally learning something,” he sighs, washing his wound.

I shut my eyes and grit my teeth in annoyance.

“Come here,” he instructs, washing the blood off his hands. I don’t move, glaring at him hatefully. “Do I have to threaten you with a gun again Brooke?” he huffs. “I don’t have to be nice to you and grant you special privileges. I could actually get rid of you and leave you in a ditch for dead. But I won’t. So be fucking grateful and bring your pretty little ass here,” he demands, his voice deadly.

I look at him challengingly.

His hand slips inside his pocket. Next thing I know, I deafening sound fills my ears, the screeching emitting straight out of the earpiece. It’s excruciating. As if every single nerve inside my brain is getting torn and stretched. I shut my eyes and fall to the floor, clutching my head in pain.

“Stop! Make it fucking stop!” I shriek, holding my head whilst curling into a ball on the floor. The noise stops, but my head is still throbbing, short spasms of pain forbidding me from standing.

The Irish boy squats beside me, exhaling in disappointment.

“You going to listen to me now?” he questions, cocking his head sideways. “Because if not, next step is making your ears bleed. And I doubt they’ll heal quickly.” He holds his hand out for me to take, almost tauntingly.

I keep quiet, but reluctantly slide my hand into his.

“Good choice Cupcake.” He hoists me up to my feet and leads me to the first aid kit beside the sink. “First step to stitching up a wound: cleaning it. Next one is numbing the area with this,” he holds up a small bottle of cream. “But you may skip this step if you can handle pain.”

He pushes the bottle away before reaching for a thin black string as well as a needle.

“Last step is the hardest, hence why I need your help. You’re going to hold my skin together and I’ll do the sewing. Shouldn’t take more than five minutes.”

“Hold your skin together?!”

“Like this.”

I watch as he takes the skin on either side of his wound and brings it closer together with his index and thumb, giving the impression that the wound is closed.

“Easy enough?”

I nod curtly. Taking a deep breath, I hold his skin as one just like he showed me. I watch, almost entranced, as he hastily pricks the top of his gash with the needle and thread and effortlessly begins sewing his wound shut.

I shift my gaze from his nimble fingers to his face. His eyes meet my inquisitive ones.

“Louis was in medical school before he joined the gang,” he explains, already halfway done. “Taught me a few basics.” He bites his lip, his gaze focusing on the task at hand once more. “You can let go now and fetch the scissors. They’re in the front-pocket of the first-aid kit,” he instructs.

Five minutes later, Niall is stitched up and washing himself in the shower, whilst I wait for him in the corner of the bathroom, facing the wall and away from him.

“You know you didn’t have to face the wall right?” he states, the sound of running water stopping.

“You forced me to stay in the bathroom. I simply faced the most interesting thing in the room,” I retort.

“Is that so?”

I shiver, his sickly sweet voice right beside my ear. I can feel his body barely an inch behind mine, unnerving me.

“Cupcake, you know how interesting I am...You couldn’t get enough of me earlier today,” he trails on quietly, his wet hand slowly making its way towards the inside of my thigh.

I grab his wrist and rapidly turn around, twisting it behind his back.

“Don’t fucking touch me,” I snarl, our faces barely 10 centimeters apart. He smirks and cocks an eyebrow upwards, looking downwards momentarily.

I follow his gaze, only to realise he’s naked. Flushing a deep shade of red, I focus back on his eyes.

“Soon love. Soon you’ll be begging for my touch, just like this morning,” he responds, amused. I let go of his arm and he proceeds to grab a towel to cover his lower body.

I follow him as he struts out of the bathroom and into his room.

“Still sure you want to sleep on the floor?” he questions, hand reaching in his drawer for a pair of boxers.

“Yes,” I snap, looking away as he drops the towel and slides them on.

“Suit yourself,” he chuckles, reaching for the discarded handcuffs Louis’d left on the bedside table this morning. “Just to make sure I don’t find you sleeping in my bathtub again,” he explains, grabbing my right wrist and securing it.

I roll my eyes as he locks my hand to the leg of his bed. I wince as the cold metal digs into my already weak skin, but don’t say anything, sitting on the floor like a reprimanded child whilst glaring at him.

Niall throws a pillow and a blanket on the carpeted floor before flipping the light switch off.

“Sleep tight love,” he says, yawning. I watch him as he nestles inside his bed, the mattress dipping invitingly.

I grumble an incomprehensible response, turn away from him, place the pillow under my head and pull the blanket over my body with my free hand.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments are more than welcome! SOrry to have kept you waiting for so long! Updates should come in more frequently as I am finished with my SMSS series!


	16. Boy vs Man

Twelve days. I spend a total of twelve days confined in Niall’s house. Even worse: I’m condemned to the area around the bed in Louis’ workroom, with three toilet breaks per day and food only when he felt like giving me some

From what I’d gathered of Louis’ hurried demands and precise instructions, something big had happened in the alleys of Chicago, preventing the devil’s return home. In fact, everybody except Louis appeared to be on the field, caught up in some huge gang turmoil.

Niall’s absence had been greatly appreciated at first. No more stupid lessons, no more sexual innuendos. Peace and quiet. But by the third day, I started craving a little adrenaline. My life was lacking its usual thrill and lying in bed for several hours a day listening to Louis direct the gang had started to sicken me. To my horror, I even caught myself wishing for Niall’s return several times. And by the twelfth day, I was strongly considering walking over the delimited area and let myself get burnt by the Devil’s cuff, simply to have something else to do apart from staring at the ceiling all day.

“I wouldn’t do that if I were you,” Louis huffs, shooting me a quick glance as I extend my arm near the invisible line. “Your wrist won’t have the time to heal by the time Niall returns.”

“And when is he returning exactly?” I huff, pulling my hand back inside the ‘safe’ zone.

“Why do you want to know?”

“Because I‘m fucking tired of twiddling my thumbs in here! I’m bored out of my fucking mind!”

Louis removes his earpiece, swivelling in his chair to look at me curiously. “You’re bored?”

“Yeah, I’m bored. It must be the first time in three years that I haven’t done anything for so long! Can you blame me?!”

“I thought you hated Niall?”

“I do, he’s an absolute ass, but at least, when he’s around, my days are filled with something other than lying on a bed, eating and going to the bathroom!”

Louis chuckles. “He’ll be more than glad to learn that you enjoy his company darling.”

I scoff. “I do not enjoy his company. He’s a vile, disgusting, cocky boy—”

“Would you mind repeating that last part Cupcake?” Niall steps in brusquely, his blue eyes focused on me. My throat feels dry suddenly and I have difficulty to swallow. “Because I can assure you I am every single one of these things but I’m certainly not a _boy_.”

I take a good look at him. Apart from a bloodied lip and bruised knuckles, he looks exactly like he did twelve days ago.

His hand grabs my upper arm as Louis frees me of the cuff.

“We have a meeting in the living room with the other three,” Niall tells Louis. “And I’ll be dealing with you tonight,” he adds to my intention, forcefully pulling me up to my feet. I’m half-dragged, half-pulled to the living room where Liam and Zayn are sat, talking lowly to themselves. Niall’s grip on my arm tightens as I take a step towards Zayn.

“Gabrielle is fine as long as you behave Cupcake,” the blonde reminds warningly in my ear before pushing me on the sofa in front of Zayn. I glare at him hatefully as Niall drops down beside me. Louis stays in a standing position nearby.

“Let’s do a rerun of the whole operation shall we?” the blonde commences. “How many dead people in our gang and how many in theirs?”

“We lost Pete and Randall, but they lost a little less than a dozen,” Zayn supplies.

“Good. Did you send a note to Pete and Randall’s respective families?” The Irish boy turns towards Liam.

“They are being notified as we speak--”

“Are you serious?” I butt in. All eyes land on me. “A note? You send a fucking note to the families of the deceased?” I scoff.

“Do you expect me to send a fucking bouquet of roses and my condolences? They were gang members. They knew the risks and they knew what it meant for their families,” Niall snaps.

“Unless you forced them to be gang members just like you’re forcing me,” I retort.

“Most of my men owe me more money than their life’s worth!” He explodes, clenching his fists. “This is their way to pay me off! If they weren’t prepared to surrender their life to work for me, they simply had to cough up the money when I asked them to!” Niall ends, features clouded with irritation as his steely gaze burns through mine.

“Where’s Harry?” Louis enquires, attempting to ease the tension between Niall and I.

“Taking care of a hostage downstairs,” the leader snaps, gaze still locked on me. “He’s retrieving some information.”

At that exact moment, a bloodcurdling scream echoes throughout the house, coming from under us.

“You're torturing him!” I exclaim, appalled to say the least.

“That we are.”

There's another scream.

“I'm going to head home and get some proper sleep,” Louis announces promptly. “I need to make up for the lack of sleep I've had for the last several days.”

“And we'll join Harry downstairs,” Niall nods. “But before you go, I want Brooke to thank you.”

I roll my eyes.

“Why would I do that?! I was restrained to the area around a bed the whole time!” I protest.

“Cupcake I'm not asking you to suck his cock. I'm asking you to thank him for taking care of feeding you while he had much better things to do,” the blonde continues, dangerously calm. All eyes are on me yet again and I find myself feeling like a child who'd been caught stealing in the cookie jar.

I scowl and bite back a retort, knowing that it wouldn't do me any good to contest him when he's around his men.

“Thanks Louis for taking care of me,” I mutter, looking at Louis. He nods, exhaling loudly.

“I'll be back tomorrow with the full report Niall,” Louis ends, heading for the door.

“Don't overwork yourself either. Rest first,” the Irish boy demands just before he leaves.

Minutes later, I'm being dragged by Liam to the basement, leaded by Niall and followed by Zayn. The leader opens the door to the room where I'd been strapped to a chair where Niall had first interrogated me.

For a fraction of a second, I see the shape of his gun in the back of his pants. My mind is reeling, my fists clenched into tight balls as I resist every single one of my urges not to simply reach for it and shoot them.

“You'd be dead before that'd happen,” Zayn whispers in my ear, reading my intentions as he enters the room as the same time as Liam and I. I grit my teeth.

I shudder as I finally get a good look at the scene before me. There's a boy that looks to be nearly my age with his arms, legs and chest strapped to the iron chair, his face covered in bruises and welts. Dried blood is caked below his nose and around his mouth, and his naked chest is filled with gashes varying in length and thickness. His chest moves up and down with difficulty, the gag soaked in blood in his mouth clearly not helping him breathe. In front of him, Harry is toying with what appears to be a hunter's knife, a satisfied smirk glued to his face.

Liam's grip tightens painfully as I move towards him.

“You're bleeding him out as if he were a pig!” I exclaim, horrified. “He's a child!” I say, fighting against Liam's hold.

“He _is_ a pig though,” Harry smiles. “Hmm? Aren't you a sick, bastard pig Damian?” Harry continues, harshly pulling the piece of fabric out of his mouth. “Tell the lady what you've done.”

The boy grits his teeth, looking down.

“Now now, don't be shy,” Harry mocks, placing the tip of the knife on Damian's chest.

“I raped a woman!” he blurts of as Harry starts applying pressure on his skin, drawing out blood.

“A woman? More like a girl hmm? A young girl at that,” the curly-haired boy trails on. “How old was she again?”

The bleeding boy clenches his eyes shut.

“How old was she?” Harry repeats in annoyance, harshly opening another gash on Damian's chest. The boy screams, short breaths coming rapidly out of mouth.

“Fifteen,” he grits out finally.

“Mhmm. Was it good Damian? Did it feel good to put your filthy cock inside that innocent young girl?”

I feel sick.

“Of course you loved it Damian. You left your semen all over her and even inside her. Fucked her real good while forcing the rest of her family watch you.”

“I'm going to throw up,” I mumble, feeling my knees weaken and my stomach churn. Liam keeps me standing.

“Now tell me why you did that again? Why did you rape that poor girl?” The British boy trails on.

“Jay wanted me to.”

“And why is that?”

“Because her father didn't have the money he owed the gang!”

I shut my eyes as Harry's fist collides with the boy’s face.

“Do not scream at me,” he seethes as Damian wretchedly coughs up some blood, a red waterfall gushing out of his nose. There's a pause. “You were saying?”

“The man couldn't pay up so Jay gave me the permission to rape his daughter,” he answers, voice weak.

“Well Jay shouldn't be such a wuss. He should learn to deal directly with the culprits, and leave their innocent family members, especially their daughters, alone. Will you give him that message for me?” Harry enquires, fisting Damian's hair in order to look into his eyes. He nods, a spark of hope illuminating his gaze at the thought of survival. “Good.” The curly-haired boy releases Damian. “I just have one more question for you before you go then. Who's Jay's next target?”

There's a pregnant pause, during which the only sound that can be heard is Damian's unsteady breathing.

“Mathew Evans,” he exhales finally. “The next target is Mathew Evans.”

My heart skips a beat.

“What?” I whisper. Niall's gaze meets mine. “My father? How the fuck is he involved in this?!” I stammer, the wheels in my head turning at a hundred miles an hour. _How could Dad possible be involved with a gang?!_

“Ask him,” Niall shrugs, pointing Damian.

“Why? Why is Mathew Evans involved?” I demand, turning towards the bleeding boy. He stares back at me, emotionlessly.

“Why would I tell _you_ ,” he replies scornfully.

I feel frustration mounting inside me like a wildfire. Liam releases me as I take three great strides towards the bound man.

“Tell me,” I demand. “Or I can guarantee more pain is coming your way.”

“I'm as worse as I can get,” he scoffs pitifully.

“Oh really?”

I grab his right index finger from his strapped hand and I pull it backwards in a quick motion. The crack of his bone resonates in the small room, followed by his immediate shriek of pain.

“You were saying?” I snap. “Now tell me how the fuck is Mathew Evans involved in all this, or I keep breaking your disgusting little fingers!” I repeat loudly, watching Damian weep in pain without a single ounce of guilt.

“He's been transferring some of our private information to a rival gang,” he gasps out finally, pain lacing his voice. “Jay wants to end him.”

“Since when?” I can't help asking.

“Since when what?!”

“Since when has Mathew Evans been transferring information? A month? A year? 19 years?” I urge, desperately wanting to figure out for how long my father had kept this a secret.

“I don't know!”

I grab his left index finger and pull it backwards in a single dry motion.

His scream is ear splitting.

“I really don't know okay!” He cries out. “I've told you all I knew!”

“I figured. This was just to make sure you'd think twice about raping a girl” I reply dryly, stepping away from him.

“Finish him off Harry,” Niall orders.

“No wait--”

Liam's hands hold me once more as Harry hastily pulls a gun out of his belt and shoots Damian in the head without flinching.

“Well this was entertaining,” Niall chuckles as Damian's dead body slumps pitifully on the chair, blood pooling everywhere. “That was brilliant Cupcake. I didn't think you'd actually have it in you to break his fingers like that. Especially considering the fact that he couldn't fight back.”

Bile rises up in my throat at the realisation of what I'd just done. I find myself running out of the basement and into the first bathroom I can find, emptying the contents of my stomach in the toilet. I throw up again as I replay everything that I'd learned in the span of fifteen minutes.

_My Dad? How could he have kept something like this a secret? Better yet, why isn't he searching for me? Why is he giving information to gangs?_

I stand up shakily and proceed to try and wash the taste of vomit out of my mouth with tap water.

“If you want, I have an extra toothbrush in my bathroom upstairs,” Niall says casually, leaning on the doorframe behind me.

Not saying anything, I push beside him through the doorframe and I head upstairs to his bathroom, searching through the cabinets for said spare toothbrush. I find the wanted item and I proceed to brush my teeth thoroughly twice, ridding myself of the horrible taste.

Niall's waiting for me in his room when I step out of the bathroom. His hand catches my wrist as I attempt to get out.

“Where do you think you're going Cupcake?” he enquires, his accent thick.

“If my father's the next target, I need to warn him and get him away from Chicago,” I state.

“They'll find him even if you do get him out of Chicago darling.”

“I don't care I have to try--”

Niall tugs me to him.

“It can wait,” he denies.

“No it can't! Didn't you hear Damian? He's a freaking target!”

“Jay's gang is in no position to do anything right now, especially not after these last two weeks. And there's no way I'm letting you go anywhere alone.”

“You're planning on going with me?”

“Why not?”

“You care for my father's safety?” I frown in disbelief.

“I don't actually but if he has some of Jay's private information and he's contacting another gang, he's a very interesting target indeed.”

“You won't hurt him―”

“If he gives me no reason to,” the blonde cuts me off seriously. “That's how I roll. Don't worry, we'll be on his case when everyone is back on their feet, especially Louis who hasn't had a good night's sleep in a while.”

“But―”

“I've sent someone to keep an eye on his house every now and then. He'll be fine,” he ends, his tone declaring the subject as closed. “Now, regarding you. Louis told me you missed my company?” He enquires, a cocky smirk on his lips.

“Nonsense. I was simply fucking bored, as any other human being would be if they'd been confined to a bed for twelve days,” I retort.

My whole body tenses up like stretched elastic as he presses his against mine.

“You know, I couldn't help but feel a certain pride downstairs,” he whispers in my ear, “when you snapped that bastards fingers like they were nothing but twigs,” he trails on, his hot breath fanning my neck. “And I want to reward you properly for that.”

“Then let me go,” I breathe out, my mind suddenly hazy. The feeling of his body pressed on mine makes my heart race.

“No I can't do that Brooke,” he shakes his head, chuckling lowly whilst his hands travel aimlessly down the side of my body. “But what I can do is show you how much of a man I am,” he murmurs in my ear, his hand suddenly dipping lower south. My breath hitches. “It irritates me to say the least that you think me a vulgar boy.”

My eyes shut without my permission, my breathing deepens.

“I'll show you Brooke, just how a man can pleasure a woman,” he mumbles, his right hand rubbing me over my jeans. “I’ll make you feel so good Cupcake, you’ll forget your own name,” he promises, his lips kissing my collarbone.

I’m still frozen in place as his hands shift to unbutton my jeans, giving him just enough space to slide his hand into my panties.

“Just say the word and the pleasure is all yours darling,” he says lowly.

“I… I can’t,” I stammer weakly, my body craving the gang leader’s touch.

“Why not? You know you want it,” Niall continues, his hand cupping my sex over my drenched panties. “And nobody’ll know except you and me...”

My head rolls backwards as his fingers press against my bundle of nerves.

“Niall,” I gasp breathlessly.

“If that gets you hot and bothered, just wait until my tongue replaces my fingers,” he whispers lustfully.

A wave of arousal submerges me so brusquely my legs forget how to function. Niall chuckles, his free arm holding me up.

“We should get you on the bed.”

“No,” I shake my head. “I don’t want you to pleasure me,” I say feebly, letting myself get taken to the bed. My clothing feels clammy on my skin.

“Why not?” Niall says. “I’m trying to reward you,” he continues, placing his legs on either side of my body. My thoughts are a jumbled mess.

“Please Niall,” I find myself whimpering as his hands caress my skin _oh so carefully_.

“Please what Brooke?” he taunts. “Haven’t you been lacking human contact for the last couple of days? Don’t you crave a release?” he persists, pressing his hips into mine.

“I don’t want… I don’t want to have sex with you,” I stutter.

“No sex. Just my mouth everywhere on your feminine folds,” he breathes out, his hand sinking back down to touch me over my underwear. “Tell me you want it and I’ll do it. I promise you you won’t regret it Cupcake,” he mumbles in my neck. “You’ll realize I’m not a boy.”

“Too many clothes,” I mutter, feeling hot all over. I shift to sit up and remove my jacket but Niall pushes me back to a lying position.

“I’ll take care of you darling.”

My eyes shut and suddenly, my jeans are being pulled off my legs, my jacket and t-shirt are being removed.

“I…Oh God,” I whimper as his fingers slide inside my panties. “This is wrong. So wrong,” I shake my head, unable to move as he pulls my panties down my legs.

“Tell me darling,” he begins, his hands pinning my thighs to the bed. “Have you already been touched intimately?” His thumbs caress the insides of my thighs, awfully close to my center. I tense up. “Have you?” he persists, lightly blowing on my exposed regions.

“Niall―”

My comment is cut off by a loud moan as he unexpectedly advances to kiss my bundle of nerves, before his tongue darts out to touch my folds.

I groan when he pulls away.

“This is your chance to back away Cupcake. If you don’t want this, tell me now,” he declares, eyes glazed over with lust. “But judging by your shocked reaction, this really is the first time you’re being touched. I’ll be sure to make it worthwhile.”

Arousal and curiosity overpowers rationality.

“Please continue,” I whisper, beyond embarrassed. He smirks and proceeds to pull my legs so they’re hanging at the edge of the bed. He kneels in front of me, his steely gaze locked on mine as he descends slowly. My body quivers in anticipation.

My eyes close as he begins licking languidly. I begin wanting more as time goes.

“Niall,” I beg, my hands reflexively reaching to guide him

“Tsk tsk,” he pulls away, shaking his head. “I’m in control though,” he warns. “You’re about to get the orgasm of your life darling,” he states, his fingers locking with mine in order to keep complete control over them. He holds them firmly in place on either side of my body.

A wretched whimper escapes my lips as his tongue pushes out of his lips once more before pursuing it’s unhurried pace, pausing regularly at the top of my clit. My head rolls on the mattress as slowly but surely, his pace accelerates, his tongue alternating between digging itself in my insides and licking long, flat strokes. . My stomach flips and my toes curl pleasure builds inside me.

I can feel him forcing against my hands as I attempt to get him to touch me even more. My thighs end up squeezing him closer.

“Niall!” I moan as he suddenly starts sucking my bundle of nerves. His tongue gives another couple of strokes.

“Cum for me Brooke,” he pants before digging in one last time. My head is spinning and I come undone. The feeling of release is exhilarating.

An inhuman whine crosses my lips and my fingers clench around Niall’s. Fireworks explode behind my eyes as I arch my back, my head moving left and right as pleasure racks every single one of my cells. I arch my back. My breathing is ragged, my brain is a mess.

“And that is how a proper man pleasures a woman,” Niall concludes with a satisfied smirk as I struggle to gather my thoughts. “And I’ll let you in on a little secret,” he adds, bending down to whisper in my ear. “Sex with me is ten times better than what you’ve just experienced,” he concludes before pulling away with a wink. “Just let me know when you’re going to give in!” he laughs, disappearing in his bathroom.

_What. Was. That?!_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know I'm being as greedy as frick... but comments = motivation... Just please... let me know what you think alright? xxx
> 
> Also: If you'Re a Peter Pan fan, I've started a new fic! Go check it out!


	17. Distractions

“Brooke!”

I blink as Harry's fingers snap in front of my face, pulling me out of my daydream.

“You won't be saving your father with your head in the clouds love,” he scolds before sending his foot in my stomach.

I grimace as I fall to the floor, scowling at the curly-haired boy.

“Don't look at me like that darling” he shakes his head, crossing his arms over his naked chest.

I stand up, resuming my defensive pose whilst attempting to focus. My father. I need to concentrate. I need to help him. Get last night out of my head. I throw a punch in his direction.

“Something is distracting you and making you weak. This isn't like you,” he continues, blocking my punches.

I groan as he easily pins me to the ground.

“What's got your knickers in a twist hmm sweetheart?” he whispers in my ear, keeping both my hands behind my back. “Could it be a certain blonde-haired gang leader?” he enquires tauntingly. I push him off angrily.

“Fuck off,” I snarl, sending a kick in his shins.

He laughs, blocking me easily.

“It is, isn't it? You can't stop thinking about what happened yesterday,” he realises, grinning. “Who would've thought that a simple orgasm would make Brooke Evans weak in the knees? If I had known, I'd given you your release in high school love,” he snickers. “Maybe you wouldn't have been so stuck up and downright annoying.”

I manage to hit him brutally in the chest, making him stagger backwards.

“It does not make me weak in the knees!” I snap. “And I'm only distracted because my father is a target for a gang while I'm here play-fighting with a gangly caveman!” I grumble angrily. “That blonde devil has nothing to do with it!”

“Excuse me? Play-fighting with a gangly caveman?” he scoffs. “Darling if you want me to increase the level of difficulty, just say the word,” Harry warns. “I simply doubt you're ready for gang fighting. Especially today.”

“Bring it,” I dare him, bracing myself. As soon as the words are out of my mouth, he hastily delivers a series of open-handed punches aiming for my face and neck. I block them all, until he sends his elbow in my stomach before shoving it harshly in my neck. My body seems to lose all sense of previous fighting knowledge.

I barely have the time to breathe that he punches me right in the face and shoots his foot in my thigh. My muscle begins aching immediately and blood gushes out of my nose. His foot collides with my shins and fall to my knees. Harry hastily tangles his hands in my mass of hair and pulls harshly, his weight pressing painfully on my calves whilst pulling my head backwards single-handedly. His hands are so big that both my hands end up in a vice grip behind my back. Blood trickles into my mouth and splatters almost noiselessly on the mats underneath me.

“As I was saying, you aren't ready,” he murmurs in my ear. “The thought of Niall pleasuring you is torturing your mind and weakening your most basic inhibitions,” he continues. His words send a jolt of electricity through my body. “You need to fight with an empty mind Brooke, or you're never going to make it out alive,” he ends, releasing me. I fall face first, catching myself with my arms. I immediately cup my aching nose, blood filling my hands.

“Today's session is useless,” Harry sighs, shaking his head. “Go clean up and sort your thoughts before thinking of setting foot back in here,” he advises as he stands up and leaves the training room without another glance in my direction.

Still holding my damaged nose, I also stand up and head out of the basement, locking myself in the first bathroom I can find. I let my blood fill the sink, staring blankly at the splatters of blood reddening the white porcelain.

I lift my head up slightly, staring at my bloodied face in the mirror. Blood trickles down my throat.

What the fuck is wrong with me? Those were some basic fighting skills, yet I completely froze over. Shaking my head in incredulity, I spit out a mouthful of blood and keep my head lowered over the sink, despising the taste of cooper.

I feel the top of my nose, searching for a deformity or any source of acute pain but I find nothing. It's not broken.

I let the blood drip for another two minutes before the flow slows to a stop, allowing me to grab a towel and wash the crimson off my face. I hold myself over the sink, glancing at myself in the mirror once more.

My eyes are dark-rimmed, my neck is bruised and my hair is a tangled mess on my head. I look like I've been hit by a train. Never had I allowed fatigue to wreck my concentration and appearance like this. Never since my mother's death. And all this because of yesterday's events. I shut my eyes momentarily and shiver as guilt swallows me. You fucking enjoyed it. You were begging for more. I open my watery eyes. What would Mom say if she saw me now? Enjoying the touch of a killer. Being a killer. I shut my eyes tightly. What have I become? Who do I want to become?

I open my eyes once more, wiping my tears decidedly with the back of my hand. I want to be strong. I want to be fearless. I want to fight for the people I care about. I can't let Niall's tricks get in the way of what I want. I need to change. Now.

Nodding decidedly, I head out of the bathroom, searching for something to show this change. Something that'll remind me of who I want to be every time I look in the mirror. I find exactly what I'm looking for barely after a minute, my fingers latching around the object almost lovingly.

I take the pair of scissors back to the bathroom, locking the door behind me. Staring at my long black mane one last time, I wrap a strand around my finger before cutting it a little higher than my jawline. I release the strand and it falls slowly to the floor. Keeping a straight face, I repeat the action again and again, a mass of hair piling up around my feet. By the time I'm done, my hair is too short for anyone to get a proper grip on it. No way I'd let anyone of those sick boys keep me on my knees with a handful of hair ever again.

The haircut is uneven at certain places but I don't care. I think I've done a pretty good job with the overall look.

The doorknob rattles just as I finish up cleaning the floor.

“Brooke,” Niall's voice echoes on the other side of the door. “You've been in there way too long. Whatever you're plotting, it's not going to work.”

I roll my eyes and open the door, walking right by him.

“I wasn't plotting anything,” I scoff, avoiding his gaze. “Needed a haircut that's all,” I continue, putting the scissors back where I'd found them.

His hand latches roughly around my arm and spins me around so I'm facing him, his body pushing mine into the counter where I'd just put away the scissors. I look up at him fiercely, my new bangs falling in front of my eyes.

“Why did you cut your hair?” he enquires, frowning.

“Because it's a free country and I wanted a haircut,” I retort. “If you don't like it, well you're welcome to try and reunite the pieces: they're in the garbage,” I snap, shrugging out of his grasp. Something flashes in his eyes for mere seconds before he pushes me into the counter once more.

“I couldn't care less if you were bald Cupcake,” he replies quickly, his fingers tight on my bicep. “But that’s beside the matter. I came to talk to you about something. You do recall snooping through my things not too long ago hmm?”

“Yes that does ring a bell─”

“Don’t sass me love. I’m not in the mood,” he warns dryly. “You moved a brown box.”

“I did. Didn’t think its contents were useful for any situation,” I trail on, vividly recalling its sex-related content.

“There was more in this box that the eye could see,” he stresses.

“Well I’m terribly sorry, but you’re not getting it back if I have anything to do about it.”

“Don’t challenge me Brooke. I win every single time,” he cautions, his face inches from mine.

“Oh really?” I stare at him, unfazed. “I know where the box is and you don’t. I don’t think you’re the one who’s winning now.”

Niall takes a step back, exhaling slowly while rubbing his temples with his index and forefinger.

“I'm going to take this moment to remind you that your friend is still in Zayn's possession and that Zayn obeys to me,” he states very calmly. “Not only that, but I can render you permanently deaf, I'm the only hope you have to saving your father and you succumbed to my touch just last night. You have absolutely no power over me Cupcake. Where. Is. The. Box?” he cuts out his words.

“I hid it,” I shrug. He stares at me longly, as if waiting for me to elaborate but I don’t bother.

“Fine,” he huffs in disbelief. “Don't tell me. But if I don't get my hands on it before nightfall, I can promise you I'm using everything inside it on you tonight,” he ends simply, turning on his heel without another glance.

I roll my eyes and head to the living room, only to fall upon Liam siting on the couch, carefully examining the blueprints of a house set on the table before him.

“You should give that box back to him sooner than later,” he advises, his gaze never leaving the blueprints. “Niall doesn’t like to be kept waiting.”

“Well I don’t like doing what he wants,” I reply, crossing my arms over my chest. “He likes to think he has power over me, but he doesn’t.”

His brown eyes lift up momentarily to meet mine.

“If that’s your way of coping with what happened yesterday―”

“Why the fuck do all of you know about last night?” I exclaim, pissed. _First Harry, now Liam? What’s next, the whole city?!_

“Niall loves to share his nightly adventures. And you weren’t exactly quiet either―”

“Enough.” I say between clenched teeth. “It was nothing but a moment of weakness. It won’t happen again.”

“Whatever you say,” he shrugs.

I approach him, only to realise the blueprints he’s studying are the ones of my house.

“Why-“

“I’m checking where the security wiring is placed, as well as the possible entries,” he supplies, moving the prints around and cocking his head sideways.

“What did you find?” I enquire, genuinely interested.

“You have the typical American security system. But even if entering by the front door is easy, it wouldn’t be recommended because there’s some strange wiring going on near the doorbell.”

I frown as he pursues his explanation.

“If someone were to attack your house, the most logical place to strike would be here,” he continues, motioning a spot on the house’s roof, “as it seems to be the exact location of the central alarm system. Not only that, but the wiring as well as its placement indicates that it’s a type RFZ-45 house. Which means the attic is liveable and it gives access to a room right under it. Unless it’s your father’s room, anyone could easily got through the attic, down to that room, and sneak up on him without alerting the police. He isn’t in critical risk, but he isn’t exactly safe either. No doubt Jay and his gang will have this figured out soon enough,” he ends, shooting a glance in my direction.

“What can we do to protect him?”

“You and me? Nothing at all. Niall on the other hand, has more than a handful of men at his disposition right now. I’m telling you Brooke, if you don’t tell Niall about the whereabouts of that box, your father might end dead sooner than you think,” he sighs, picking up the blueprints. “Human lives are in your hands right now, and you’re focused on trying to annoy Niall,” he scolds, standing up. “You claim you aren’t like him, but this selfishness is strikingly similar,” he finishes, leaving the living room.

I clench my fists and grind my teeth, his words like a kick to my stomach.

“I am not like Niall Horan. At all,” I grumble.

 _“’Course not. You don’t have the Irish charm or the wits to be me,”_ comes the blonde’s voice through the earpiece. _“But we do have the killer instincts in common as well as the thrill for danger.”_

I don’t even bother answering him, heading to the kitchen to grab a snack.

_I’m no killer. I’m not like him._

_“Let’s play a game Cupcake,”_ Niall proposes in my ear.

“Not interested dumbass,” I mumble, knowing he could hear me. I head to the fridge, searching for something to eat.

_“Trust me, you are. We’re going to work on a new lesson.”_

“Which is?” I enquire with mock interest, grabbing the last yellow apple.

 _“Working efficiently under pressure. See, last night, Damian’s remains were placed in your father’s garbage bin right outside his house,”_ he explains casually. _“Unfortunately, your nosy neighbor is about to go take a look at them after a very convincing call from one of my men. Guess what’ll happen when she sees a dead body in your father’s garbage?”_

I freeze.

_“Cops. Your job is to cover the tracks. Unless of course, you want your father to end up in jail?”_

“I’ll just run away with him,” I snap, walking determinedly to the door leading outside.

 _“Because being followed by the police and a very powerful street gang is a more pleasant option?”_ I hear him chuckle. _“It’s your decision Cupcake. But if you do decide to cover the tracks, you have no more than fifteen minutes before police come swarming to your house. And last but not least, don’t forget I can track your every move. And I still want that box. Have fun love.”_

Fifteen minutes to make a body disappear?!

Shaking my head, I find myself hurrying out the door running.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thoughts to share?


	18. Pressure

First thing I do when I step outside is take in my surroundings. My eyes search for the street name, wanting to locate myself in the city. _Florence Avenue._

I search in my head, mapping out the itinerary between here and my house.

“Fucking hell I’m not going to make it by foot!” I grumble. My eyes dart for the bastard’s garage. _He won’t mind if I take his car, right?_

Not wasting another minute, I hurry back inside the house, running to the garage. I get the door to open and rush into the closest car: the Bentley. I pull on the leather casing underneath the steering wheel, exposing a series of wires. Two black wires, as well a blue, a half-black half-blue and a completely red one stare back at me.

I frown, trying to recall how to hotwire a car.

_I need the battery wire and the ignition wire to be wounded up together, and then make the starter wire touch the both of them._

I eye the five wires warily. _But which one is which?_

Crossing my fingers internally, I grab one of the black wires and wound it with the blue and black before making the top of the red wire touch both of them.

“Thank the Lord,” I mutter as the car purrs to life. I get out of under the steering wheel and shut the door, shift the gear with my left foot on the clutch before hastily slamming my feet on the gas pedal.

My hands grip the steering wheel as I violently manoeuvre the vehicle out of the garage, making the tires squeal on the pavement.

 _“You did not just hotwire my car,”_ comes Niall’s angry voice in my ear.

“Yeah I fucking did!” I reply heatedly, accelerating as I take a look at the clock. “Now shut up I’m trying to drive and you’re distracting me!” I continue, eyes locked on the road.

 _“Cupcake, you’re in for a real treat when you get back home,”_ the leader seethes in my ear.

“Whatever,” I mumble, speeding up to pass a yellow light. I glance at the time. _I still have 8 minutes. I can do this._

After a few brusque twist and turns of the steering wheel, I arrive on my street, right on time to see my neighbor, Mrs. Roseroot, making her way to the garbage bin in front of my house with her phone on her ear.

Mrs. Roseroot used to babysit me when my father had to stay at the hospital with my mother.

My eyes grow big. I rapidly park the car by the side of the road, pulling the wires away from each other to stop the engine. I get out of the car just as the middle-aged woman opens the green bin. She turns white, her hand covering her mouth in a silent scream.

“Mrs. Roseroot, wait! I can explain!” I shout, wanting to enlighten the whole gory situation.

Her gaze meets mine and takes a frightened step backwards, eyes darting between me and her dwelling. She accidently drops her phone. Hastily, she picks it back up and starts running back to her house while dialing. I sprint after her, stopping the door with my foot just as she’s about to lock it on me. I push it open forcefully. She crawls to the kitchen, sobbing hysterically while screaming in her phone.

“A dead body! There was a dead body! My neighbor―”

I knock the phone out of her hands, stepping on it. The device shatters under my feet as I turn to look at the 50 year-old woman, standing shakily in the corner of the counter. Her face is a mix of confusion and fear, her hands fumbling behind her. I grab her wrists.

“Mrs. Roseroot, sorry for barging in like that, but there’s been a great misunderstanding,” I begin calmly.

“Don’t kill me please!” she begs, cowering.

“Of course I won’t kill you,” I state, shocked she’d think me able of such a thing.

“If you mean me no harm, let go of me,” she retorts, lower lip trembling. I immediately release her, holding my hands up in front of her as I take a step back. “I’ve always known your family was nothing but trouble!” she accuses me. “The two of you have skeletons in your closet―”

“I’m the one who put that body in the bin,” I say. “My father is innocent and knows nothing of it. Don’t get him involved with the cops.”

“So that’s what you’ve been doing?! Killing people?” she gets out, horrified I’d just admitted to murder. “All those nights I’ve seen you sneak out your window was to become a criminal?!”

“No I was fighting the criminals!” I deny firmly. _She was spying on me? What the hell?!_

“Then why is there a dead body in your garbage bin?!”

“I didn’t kill him! He was simply in the wrong place at the wrong time―”

 _“Darling, she’s stalling you. She doesn’t give two shits about your explanation. The cops are on their way already. They tracked the location of her phone about two minutes ago,”_ I’m shocked to hear Louis’s voice in my ear piece. _“You have a little more than five minutes to get rid of the body in the bin and get away unnoticed,”_ he adds.

 _“The witness will have to go too,”_ Niall states. _“Unless you want the police on your tail for a while?”_

“I can’t possibly kill her!” I say in Niall’s intention. Mrs. Roseroot clenches her eyes shut.

_“You have to. Nobody can stay silent forever.”_

“God fucking dammit!” I shout angrily while throwing my hands up in the air, scaring the 50 year-old woman. She starts shaking and crying.

“To think I baby-sitted a monster!” she continues.

“I am not a monster!” I burst.

Her hands reach behind her and latch on a kitchen knife. The blade digs shallowly in the inside of my arm before I knock the weapon out of her hand and send her to the floor. She loses consciousness, her head hitting the floor with a nauseating crack.

 _“You can’t leave any drop of blood on the scene Cupcake,”_ Niall states. _“You’ll be tracked in no time.”_

_Is he seeing all of this?! Is he watching me?!_

I glare at my bleeding arm, taking a quick look around. Gritting my teeth, I tear a piece of Mrs. Roseroot’s clothes and rapidly wrap it around my reddening wound.

 _“Four minutes love,”_ Louis declares in my ear.

I grunt as I haul Mrs. Roseroot’s body in my arms, taking her to the Bentley as quickly as possible. I dump her in the backseat, making sure child lock is on the doors before shutting them. _God dammit I’m kidnapping a fifty year old woman!_

_“Two minutes.”_

Taking a deep breath, I head to the front of my house and open the garbage bin. My stomach jumps as I end up face to face with Damian’s lifeless, decaying body, bundled up in the tight space.

“You guys are sick and vile and have no respect for human life!” I grit out to Niall, untangling the limbs to tug the body out. _Thank God there’s no blood in the bin_ , I remark as I finally wrench him out, as well as empty cans and other trash.

Damian’s corpse turns out to be way heavier than Mrs. Roseroot. And my wounded arm is not helping the case.

 _“Gonna have to work on your strength, Cupcake?”_ Niall taunts in my ear as I struggle to cross the street with the inanimate man.

“Shut the fuck up,” I snarl. I yank the body to the car, letting go of him for mere seconds to pop the trunk open. The sounds of sirens can be heard from afar. “Fuck, fuck, fuck.” I hastily throw Damian’s body in the trunk, slamming it shut before jumping in the driver’s seat.  My hands are shaking, fumbling with the wires as I attempt to wound the right ones together.

_“Less than a minute.”_

I take the starter wire and join it with the other two. The engine dies as I move to shift the gear, shifting the clutch too late.

“Fucking hell!”

I join the starter wire once more, but the engine dies down again as this time, I step too early on the clutch and accelerator.

_“20 seconds.”_

_“Cupcake, take a deep breath and focus on what you’re doing,”_ Niall instructs through the chip. _“The cops are coming from the east. Head west and you’ll be fine. And don’t make the tires screech: be calm or it’ll give you away.”_

I find myself listening to his advice.

Shutting my eyes momentarily, I inhale and exhale deeply, joining the starter wire one last time. The Bentley hums to life. I open my eyes, concentrating on shifting to first gear before pushing on the accelerator. The vehicle moves forwards. I shift the gear to reverse, backing up in a parking spot to head in the other direction. I turn the steering wheel, ignoring the throbbing in my right arm. I get back into first gear, rolling out of the parking spot. My feet do the pedal shifting easily, and I get to second gear, then third, turning the corner of the street just as red and blue lights make an appearance in my rear view mirror.

 _“Good job Cupcake,”_ Niall purrs. _“Good thing there’s no matriculation on my car though. You would’ve given them just enough time to note it.”_

“What do I do with the body? And Mrs. Roseroot?” I counter, fingers gripping the wheel. “And how do I even know for sure that the cops won’t question my father?”

_“The cops will be looking for witnesses. You father wasn’t even at home. My men on the other hand, who were on the spot dressed as normal folks when the cops arrived, can come up with very creative stories.”_

“I kidnapped a person! What kind of twisted story can explain that?!” I retort, unconvinced.

 _“Don’t you worry your pretty little head about that.”_ I can practically hear the smirk in his voice.

“What do I do with the body and my neighbor?!” I repeat again, frustration lacing my words.

 _“The body can be dumped a few miles from here. Take the next left and head straight down the road,”_ Louis tells me. _“There’s a ditch.”_

“You want me to throw him in a ditch?!”

_“We don’t have time for fucking ceremonies Brooke.”_

I grind my teeth, turning on the first street to my left. My eyes fall on the sun slowing setting.

“Niall what is your definition of nightfall?” I ask, driving down the long road. The density of houses per meter lessens the farther I go.

 _“When the sky is black Cupcake. Why? Planning of giving me back my box after all?”_ he sing-songs.

“I’m not going to give it to you. I’ll tell you where it is,” I deny.

_“No. I want you to be the one to hand it to me and tell me how sorry you are for taking what didn’t belong to you. So hurry up and take care of the bodies darling.”_

“Fucking dickhead,” I mutter angrily as I reach the end of the street. I stop the car by the side of the road and get out, popping the trunk open. I glance rapidly at Mrs. Roseroot’s unconscious body in the backseat before getting Damian’s body out of the car.

 _“Follow the gravel trail until you reach a green fence. You can throw the body over it and it’ll roll down in the ditch,”_ Louis informs me.

I feel nauseated as I lug the corpse through rocks and dirt, unable to do otherwise due to my arm. The sky becomes significantly darker by the time I reach the fence. Traces of orange, yellow and pink can still be seen as I look up at the tree tops, but I know I definitely don’t have more than ten minutes to make it back to Horan’s house.

Grunting, I pull Damian’s lifeless form upwards, trying to get it over my head and then over the fence. I wince as his white limbs touch my face, but I push myself under him, finally getting him at arm’s length over me. I lurch him forwards with all my might, barely throwing him above the enclosure.

I shut my eyes as I hear him roll down into the ditch, a low thud resonating when he hits something hard. Shaking my head, I run back to the car. My stomach is twisted into queasy knots as I roll into the driver’s seat.

 _“What are you going to do with your neighbor?”_ the blonde devil enquires.

“I don’t know!” I shout, hitting the steering wheel.

_“Bring her to me. I’ll deal with her if you’re unable to do it.”_

“No! I don’t want you to kill her! It’s your fault she’s been involved!” I declare indignantly. I hear her stir behind me at that exact moment.

_“Night is coming love. Is she worth what I’ll make you go through if I don’t get the box in 8 minutes?”_

_No. No she’s not._

My mouth opens in horror. _Oh my God. I did not just think that!_

 _“Brooke bring her to me instead,”_ Louis proposes. _“I think I can fix our problem without having to kill her.”_

I shut my eyes, shoulders slumping as I hold the wheel. _What better choice do I have? At least Louis won’t kill her and I can’t think of a better solution right now._ I look up at the sky, a couple clouds of orange and purple being the only things indicating the sun wasn’t completely set.

“Okay.”

I rapidly start up the car once more, making the Bentley swerve on the sidewalk as I press on the pedal aggressively to head back to Niall’s house as quickly as possible, following Louis direction’s in my ear.

_“It’s nearly nightfall. Leave the woman in your backseat when you arrive. I’ll take care of her.”_

I drive into the bastard’s garage. The car is practically still rolling as I jump out of it, knowing the last rays of sunshine are about to say goodbye any minute now. I nearly bump into Louis as I run up the stairs two by two, heading straight for the closet. I open it and pull the cabinet open. I throw the boots behind me and toss the pile of folded t-shirts aside, hands grabbing the brown-leather box.

“Niall where are you?!” I yell throughout the house, shooting a worried glance at the darkening sky outside the window.

“Kitchen!” he replies.

I sprint out of the room, nearly falling down the stairs as I make my way to the kitchen. I find him leaning on by the fridge, smirk on his face and beer in hand. He takes a sip, putting it on the counter as I hand him the box.

“There.”

He smiles, taking the box.

“You made it on time after all,” he begins, placing it on the counter beside him. “Not bad for a Rookie.”

“I―”

“But,” he silences me hastily, pining me between his body and the fridge. Our faces are inches apart, my breathing still ragged from my running. “Not only did you take what wasn’t yours to take, you also hotwired my car and couldn’t take care of that neighbor of yours by yourself.” His eyebrow cocks upwards. “I’m waiting for an apology.”

“Step away from me first,” I ask, breathless.

“Why? Do I make you uncomfortable love?” he snickers, pressing his warm body even closer to mine. “That was not what you we’re saying yesterday―”

I stop his hand just as it heads downwards, glaring at him.

“Do not touch me.”

“I’m not moving until you apologize darling. And you can’t fight me off with this,” he continues, thumb digging into the cloth covering my wounded arm. I wince. “Apologize now.”

I grit my teeth, not liking our closeness at all. Because as much as I hate him, my body craves his. And that is not okay for me.

“I’m sorry,” I get out finally, “for taking what wasn’t mine to take.”

He smirks, stepping away from me.

“There. Wasn’t so hard huh?”

I pull on my jacket, irritated.

“Let’s take care of your wound shall we? And then I’ll let you know what you’ll be doing tomorrow for your punishment.”

“My punishment?! I brought the box back to you on time! I fucking apologized!” I counter, throwing my hands up in the air.

“Yes, but that doesn’t mean I accept your apology. And my house really needs some cleaning,” he replies. “I think you’d look pretty good in a maid’s outfit. Especially if my men are around to see how docile you’ve become.”

My blood freezes in my veins.

“What?!”

“Alright, alright. I’ll be fair. If you give me a really good blowjob tonight, I’ll overlook tomorrow’s punishment,” he suggests.

“Fuck you!” I blurt out horrified, clenching my fists.

“Well that was a onetime offer. Hope you like cleaning Cupcake,” he ends.


	19. Grateful

“What are you going to do with Mrs. Roseroot,” I ask Louis as he’s bending over my wound, later in the evening.

“Who?”

“My neighbor,” I sigh, looking at the unconscious woman a few feet away from us.

“I’m not sure yet,” he sighs, cutting off the last of the string stitching my skin together. I wince.

“What do you mean, you’re not sure?” I ask.

“I mean what I mean,” he huffs, wrapping the wound in gauze. “Niall wants her dead and you didn’t want to kill her. I’m just going to try and find a way to make sure she isn’t a threat to Niall anymore,” he shrugs.

“But you’re not going to kill her?”

“Of course not,” he protests, almost insulted. “I don’t have Niall’s blatant disregard for human life.”

I frown. “Then what exactly are you doing in a gang?” I enquire, pursing my lips.

He stares at me.

“That is my business,” he declares finally, stepping away from me. “You can go now. Careful with straining your brachioradialis for the next few days: the stitches might break.”

“My what?”

“The muscle in your forearm,” he exhales, opening the door to his 'office'. “Now go: I have some work to do.”

Next thing I know, I’m being pushed out of the room. I blink repeatedly. _What is he doing in a gang if he’s against killing?_ I ponder. I realize that the corridor is empty and that I’m under no surveillance. _Why haven’t I tried to escape since that first night again?_

Wasting no time, I bolt down the corridor, heading for the door.

“Where do you think you’re going sweet—”

I don’t even let the blonde devil in the living room finish his sentence, sprinting outside. _I need to get to Dad._ But I’m barely past the driveway that a high pitched wail fills my ear, trampling me to the ground. I hold my head in between my hands, unable to even think due to the agony the high pitch engenders. I end up in a fetal position on the ground, biting my lip to stop the scream of pain at the back of my throat. _Right. That fucking earpiece is the reason I’m stuck here._

When the sound stops and I open my eyes, I see Niall squatting in front of me. My breathing is ragged and I resist the strong urge to look up at him.

“Cupcake….What was that exactly?” he asks, dangerously calm.

“You know…” I pant. “Just stretching my legs,” I retort sarcastically, still avoiding his piercing gaze. My ears are throbbing.

Niall chuckles, his finger tilting my chin upwards forcefully.

“If you wanted to stretch your legs so bad darlin’, why didn’t you come and see me? I know exactly what can get them worked up,” he states cockily, licking his lips. “I’m pretty sure wrapping them around my waist as I pound relentlessly into you would’ve done the job.”

His words send an unwanted shiver down my spine, my stomach clenching and my heart speeding up.

I get back on my feet, wincing as his hand grabs my forearm, at the exact place with gauze and stitches.

“I’ve figured out exactly when I want you to clean my house,” he begins, tugging me back inside his home. “I thought it would be fun to invite Harry, Liam and Zayn over for some poker while you’re in a skanky maid outfit, but then I had an even better idea as you ran out that door: there’s a footie match this weekend. And my house will undoubtedly be swarming with members of the gang since I have the biggest T.V. and they’ve all been invited to watch the game,” he elaborates, smirking. “Perfect time to play maid and serve us food.”

My jaw drops.

“What?! You can’t do that!” I protest.

“Bet you’re regretting your decision to ‘stretch your legs’ huh?” he snorts, shutting and locking the door behind him.

“I will not dress up as a maid,” I deny firmly.

“Sure you will,” he waves me off.

“No. You’d break my arm and I still wouldn’t do it.”

“The thing is Cupcake, you’d lose your value if you ended up with a broken arm,” he states, spinning around to face me. “You’d be a weak link in the gang and I can’t have that. But if you keep tempting me to break something, your friend Gabrielle might end up being my target,” he threatens casually.

I swallow the lump in my throat.

“I hate you,” I seethe finally, glaring at him. “You’re a fucking coward for using my friend against me like that and you’re also a fucking dick for giving me a punishment after I brought your fucking box on time,” I snarl.

“Three fucks in a single sentence. Are you trying to send me a message?” he mocks, cocking his eyebrow upwards.

I send him the bird, before flipping around on my heel.

 “Get this through your thick skull: I won’t ever sleep with you willingly Niall Horan!” I yell, stomping upstairs.

_“In due time, you will.”_

I let out a scream of frustration as his voice rings in my ear. I storm into a guest room, grab a pillow and scream as loud as I can, letting myself fall onto the bed. I scream until my voice is sore, before I begin punching the pillows, imagining they were Niall’s face.

After several minutes, I exhale loudly and shut my eyes, rubbing my temples.

_Dress up as a fucking maid. In front of God knows how many vile men who kill for their own sick pleasure. Please Lord, give me the strength to castrate the lot of them and get Gabrielle out of this._

♣○♣○♣○♣

 

Barely three days later, Louis removes my stitches, the cut having scarred quickly due to its shallowness.

“You know the footie match is tonight, right?” the older boy enquires, washing the tender scar with a wet cloth.

“How could I forget?” I grumble. “Niall hasn’t shut up about it.”

“You never should’ve tested his patience,” Louis shrugs.

“Are you reprimanding me?”

“What if I am? You haven’t been making things easy for you. Fucking around with Niall is never a good idea,” he states simply.

“What did you do with my neighbor after all?” I ask, changing the subject. I’d heard her cursing and yelling for help in one of the rooms in the basement yesterday but I hadn’t actually seen her.

“Nothing yet. I’ve been researching on brainwaves and their relation to the memory. If I can alter her brainwaves, I have access to her memory and therefore remove the threat,” he explains. “But, the only problem is, I haven’t tried that on anyone before and I have no idea if I’ll harm her brain permanently. If I do, I think she’d wish she was dead,” he admits, rubbing the back of his neck worriedly.

“If you do more research—”

“I don’t have the time. Niall’s growing impatient and he wants the threat to be removed before the footie match tonight. But either if I bring her back home really messed up or not, I’m the one responsible for fetching tonight’s pizza with Liam right after.”

I bite my lip.

“What if we ask her what she prefers?” I exhale finally. “I mean, she should get to choose between dying or taking the chance to get her mind altered.”

“And if she decides she’d rather die huh? Would you be willing to kill her? Because I won’t. And Niall will be sure to make her suffer.”

“What about Harry then?”

“I don’t know…He’s more inclined to harm people who deserve to be harmed. Really, our best option here would have to be Zayn. And he’s not coming before the match.”

“Let’s just hope she doesn’t want to die then,” I give up.

“Let’s hope indeed,” he sighs, standing up. “Let’s go and ask her.”

I follow closely behind Louis as we head down to the basement, Louis unlocking the first room to the right. My eyes fall upon the curled figure of Mrs. Roseroot in the corner of her ‘cell’.

Her head snaps in our direction.

“Have you come to kill me?” she questions, voice hoarse. I can tell she’s grown terrified.

“Yes and no…” I look to Louis for help.

“I have good news and bad news for you,” he supplies. “Good news is: you can go home today.” A spark of hope lights up in her eyes but it’s gone as soon as Louis continues. “Bad news is: your brain will undoubtedly be missing some pieces.”

“How many pieces?” she asks shaking, her voice barely above a whisper.

“I’m not quite sure—”

“This is my brain we’re talking about!” she yells.

“We know that and that’s why he’s here to offer you a deal,” I say.

“I need to remove about five days’ worth of memory from you, something I’ve never done before. So there are some very significant risks,” he begins, crossing his arms over his chest. “These risks could involve into permanent failure between nerves in your brain, possibly creating a lifelong handicap.”

“So you’re asking me—”

“I’m asking you if you’d rather die than take the risk to live with a permanent handicap,” he states.

“Of course I’m taking the risk!” she declares insulted, standing up. “Life is too valuable to throw away! Especially to scums like you lot!” she seethes. “Do your little operation I don’t care. I just want to head back home!”

I blink.

“You might not even remember who you are when I’m done—”

“But at least I’ll be alive,” she counters dryly.

Louis exhales loudly. “Fine,” he gives up. “I’ll do what I must,” he ends before tugging me out of the small room and locking the door behind him. I shake my head, glancing into the cell before following the gang member.

“I hope you know what you’re doing—”

“I don’t. Her brain is going to be truly wrecked. Two years in medical school did not make me a neuroscientist,” Louis replies, shrugging his shoulders. Somehow, the action upsets me.

“How can you fucking do that?!” I protest, pushing him into the wall beside the stairs. “Act like you don’t care about what will happen to her!”

He pushes me off harshly, irritated to say the least.

“Look. If it hadn’t been for your incapacity to get rid of someone, I wouldn’t be in this predicament right now. This is your fault. Your problem I’m trying to fix. So try to be a little fucking grateful!” he snaps, storming upstairs to the ground-floor.

I place my foot on the first step, also ready to bound upstairs but I pause, eyes shifting to Mrs. Roseroot’s cell. _What if I get her out now? And risk having a criminal record for the rest of your days since she assumes you’re with the gang willingly? Great plan Brooke. Freaking genius. Not only that, but you’re also sentencing your father to a life of running._

I grind my teeth and reluctantly head back upstairs, leaving my neighbor behind. I can hear my conscience scolding me: _You’re no better than the lot of them._

Pushing the thought away, I walk up another set of stairs and head to the guest room, where I’d spent the last three nights sleeping. To my surprise, Niall hadn’t fussed much about it, but I figured that it was simply due to the fact that he didn’t want any of the hookers from his nightly escapades to meet me. Not that I was complaining. Better them than me.

I stop dead in my tracks as I spot Niall lying on the bed, slutty maid uniform strewn in front of him, smirk plastered on his face at the sight of me.

“Ready for this evening?” he enquires, licking his lower lip reflexively.

“Should I be?” I scoff. “I still don’t know how you’re going to force me into that,” I state, eyeing the costume. “Oh right,” I mock surprise, interrupting him as he opens his mouth to reply. “I forgot. You’re going to threaten my friend. Because you’re a fucking coward Horan.”

Niall blinks once, then twice, before he starts laughing. And honestly, it scares me how somber his laugh is.

“You’re so cute Cupcake,” he laughs. “Trying to rile me up so I can finally _fuck_ some sense into you,” he states, groaning the word ‘fuck’ so sinfully it makes my skin crawl. I shiver. “You’re drooling for it, aren’t you? Just begging to be fucked proper,” he continues, advancing slowly towards me.

I clench my jaw as his hand grips a handful of my short hair, unmoving as he slams my back into the doorframe.

“Well tell you what darlin’,” he seethes “you don’t deserve my cock. That’s why I’ve been giving it to those hoes instead. They know how to recognize a man with power and they know pleasing him is the right thing to do.”

I glare at him, unflinching. My heart though, is as quick as a hummingbird’s wings.

“Don’t force me to make you get in that costume sweetheart or you will regret it. Must I remind you that your father is under my protection? That I’m putting some of my men’s lives on the line for him? Which brings me to today’s lesson: be fucking grateful!” he snarls, releasing my hair. “You need to be dressed by the time I come back, or the consequences will be nothing to laugh about,” he ends, leaving the room swiftly.

I don’t know whether it’s the fear of something happening to my father or the desire to deprive Niall the satisfaction of punishing me again, but I reluctantly changed into the disgusting skanky material. The skirt barely covers my behind, and the bar-like top is a second away from letting my breasts fall out. I’m not at ease. At all.

Niall comes bursting in about an hour later. His fingers dig into my tender scar as he tugs me out of the room and downstairs to the living room. Some of the men have already arrived. The only faces I know are the ones of Liam, Harry and Zayn. Zayn who’s sitting right beside a hog-tied, whimpering and struggling Gabrielle at the far end of the room, for everyone to see. Bruises line up her arms.

I automatically reach for her but Niall stops me, pulling me backwards by the hair. I notice the sudden interest my presence brings.

“I’m going to make myself very clear darlin’,” the Irish leader begins, his hand sliding the length of my thigh slowly for everyone to see. “Whatever you do to us will be done to your friend. You punch one of us in the face; she will be punched in the face. Catch my drift? Nod yes or no.” I nod rapidly. “Good. So if you want her to be left alone, you’re just going to have to let us do as we please to you,” he states. “Unless you’d rather it be the opposite? I can get her to be in the costume and you to be hogtied? Although I can’t promise I won’t stop my men from doing a little more than touching _her_ since she is a little less valuable to me but— ”

“I’ll do it,” I say between clenched teeth. “I’ll serve you and your disgusting pigs—”

“Ah ah ah,” he chastises. “Careful with your words though. They might not react as nicely as I do to your dirty mouth,” he whispers in my ear, motioning a couple of their clenched fists with his head. “Now let’s get this match started!” he ends, his hand sliding to cup my ass harshly before slapping me forwards. The men cheer and my dread grows.


	20. Desperation

“Go fetch us a couple of beers sweetheart,” Niall instructs. “They’re in the fridge.”

Unfortunately for me, the kitchen is across the living room. Inhaling deeply, I square my shoulders and begin walking through the group of men. I know they’re undressing what little clothing I have with their eyes. All of them. Even if the soccer game has already started. I clench my teeth as one of the grabs my ass, my hands balling into fists as I spin around to face the culprit.

I’m met with Harry’s daring green eyes.

“Come on love. Hit me,” he mocks. “I dare you.”

I grind my teeth, flipping on my heels as the men around me hoot and chuckle. It’s not long before another grubby hand touches me, then another and another. Touching my exposed thighs, my ass and every inch of skin they can reach really.

When I finally make it to the kitchen, I’m just about ready to burst and I know it’s making Niall giddy. I glower at him from the other side of the room and he replies with a smirk. I flip him my finger before opening the fridge door.

It’s filled to the brim with packs of beer.

_Great. Freakin great. There’s going to be a load of drunken morons in the house._

Clenching my teeth, I grab as many bottles as I can in my hands before reluctantly handing them out to the gang members. Their stares make my skin crawl, make me feel like meat.

Every single one of my cells is begging me to punch at least one of them in the throat, so the rest of them know not to mess with me, but knowing my friend might receive the same treatment forces me to keep my hands to myself.

“Sit on my lap love,” a burly man demands, pulling me onto him as I hand out the last beer. I sit stiffly as his disgusting hands slide up my thighs, before cupping my chest crudely. “I bet your tits would look great above me,” he grunts in my ear after a couple minutes of groping.

I immediately recoil, fists balling. But his grip is firm on me, keeping me sitting on his lap.

“Let me go,” I order.

He chuckles.

“You're a feisty little thing aren't ya?” he continues in my ear. “I'd probably have to tie you down in order to feed you my cock―”

Harry grabs my hand just as it flies in the man's face.

“Come on Jake. You can't hog her like that,” the green-eyed boy says casually, pulling me to him. “Everyone needs to have a turn.”

“Fucking bitch tried to hit me―”

“But she didn't,” Harry shrugs, placing me on his lap as if I were a mere doll. My anger mounts. “Hello Evans,” he whispers in my ear teasingly.

“Fucking let me go Harold―”

“Now that’s not the way to talk to―”

“Let me go―”

“Quit yapping! We're trying to watch the game here,” one of the men snaps angrily, intently focused on the television.

“Release me Styles,” I repeat, on a much quieter tone.

“Are you sure that's what you want?” he replies just as softly, his fingers playing with a strand of my hair, “because if I do let you go,  someone else will grab you and I can promise you your experience will be very similar to the one you just had with Jake.”

“I'll take the risk.”

“Fine by me then,” he gives up, letting me go.

I stand up and pull the maids skirt downwards with a huff. My eyes meet Gabrielle's at the end of the room. As I take a step in her direction, I'm stopped by a heavily tattooed man.

 “Hey darlin’,” he begins. “I think the shelf over there needs cleaning,” he continues, motioning the one right in front of him, low enough for him to get an eyeful of my behind if I bend down.

“The cleaning stuff is in the closet love,” Niall agrees, keeping his eyes on the TV as he takes a large gulp of his drink.

“Are you fucking serious? You really expect me to clean?!” I snap, turning towards the blonde idiot.

“You bet I am. You’re a maid, aren’t ya?” he smirks, motioning my attire. The rest of the men snigger, gazes barely leaving the screen.

“Fuck you,” I snarl under my breath, heading towards the designated closet.  I wince as Niall’s hand suddenly grabs my arm tightly, his body pressing me to the door harshly so we’re out of the rest of the gang’s view.

“Darling if you want to put an end to this right now, you can head to my bedroom and I’ll get you out of these clothes with great pleasure,” he states lowly, licking his lips. “But you have to be a willing participant.”

I shrug his hands off me.

“So this is what it's all about?!” I hiss. “You're that desperate to fuck me?”

“I'm only trying to make things easier for you Cupcake.  I can promise you the day will come when you'll finally open your legs for me, begging me to touch you. I'm merely speeding up the process to get you out of this situation.”

“Oh sure. You're such a saint,” I roll my eyes.

“Come on Brooke...” he mumbles, sliding his free hand down the length of my thigh. His leg pushes mine open, giving him more space. I'm frozen in a mix of fear and curiosity. “I know you want me as bad as I want you,” he trails on, breathing in my neck. “Aren't you curious? Curious about how it'll feel to finally be pleasured by a man? Don't you want to feel as good as you did a couple of days ago?”

The thought alone makes heat gather in my stomach.

“No,” I get out.

“You're clenching your legs love. You want it. Why are you fighting a primal instinct?” He whispers, his mouth inches away from mine.

I blink out of my stupor, hands pushing on his chest.

“Because you're vile. Because it would be against all my morals to give in to you. Because your dick is undoubtly covered with STD's.”

His whole demeanour switches from teasing to livid.

“You―”

“Pizza's here!” Louis calls out as he barges in the house with his arms full. “Brooke, be a good maid and help me out will ya?”

I notice a few heads turning around to look at me.

Niall pulls away from, eyes clouded with an unhealthy mix of lust and anger.

“Serve the food and get cleaning,” he states finally, waving me away.

Dazed yet kind of relieved, I head back to the kitchen while Louis dumps the pizza boxes on the counter.

“I saved ya there, didn’t I?” Louis mumbles to me under his breath as I help him cut slices and drop them onto paper plates.

“What?” I frown.

“My entrance was timed perfectly. Another second and I’m pretty Niall would’ve dragged you to his room by the hair. You can’t go around insulting him.”

“You heard us? From outside the house?” _But we were whispering._

“Love, I control the whole microchip system. If I want to listen to a member, I can. You can thank your lucky stars I happened to be tuned to Niall’s microphone.”

I blink.

“Thanks I guess?”

“You’re starting to owe me a lot Brooke. That time I undid your handcuffs, taking care of your neighbor, salvaging you from Niall’s wrath…Don’t be surprised when I come knocking to collect,” he finishes, picking up his plate and taking a seat amongst the rest of the men.

“I don’t see much of anything going on, maid!” Someone calls out gruffly.

I shut my eyes, taking three deep breathes before getting to work. Managing to keep a straight face, I serve nearly thirty slices of pizza before getting the cleaning supplies out.

“Another beer!” Jake calls out, waving his empty bottle in my face while devouring his pizza.

“Why don't you lift your ass up and get it yourself huh?” I reply, rolling my eyes.

“Excuse me?!” he stands up.

I feel numerous gazes drifting from the footie match to me, especially Niall’s.

“You heard me,” I repeat boldly. “I have cleaning to do. Niall asked me to clean.”

“Don’t you go putting words in my mouth. I asked you to do whatever the gang wanted you to do,” the leader retorts, his eyes an icy storm.

“I think I ought to please the leader’s demands first, no?” I reply innocently, wringing a rag out of the water. I wince as Jake’s large hand wraps around my arm, pulling me harshly to my feet. I drop the rag back into the bucket.

“Listen up sweets,” he begins, his grip so tight it ought to leave bruises. “You really don’t want to play cheeky with me. Because then I get to be cheeky with you.” As he says that, his free hand takes a good handful of my ass, squeezing it crudely. I stiffen, fist clenched.

“Get your hands off me,” I order though clenched teeth. “Right now.”

He scoffs.

“Careful mate, she has a mean right hook,” Harry sighs nearby, clearly bored.

“A fragile, little slutty maid like her? I doubt that—”

I can’t help it. My knuckles fly into his face. A deafening crack resounds through the room as blood starts gushing out of my assailants’ nose. As he reflexively goes to cup his bleeding nose, I send my knee flying into his crotch.

He hollers in pain, dropping to the ground. His hands hold his genitals, face pulled into a grimace as the blood keeps gushing onto Niall’s floor.

“Not like anybody was to reproduce with you anyways,” I sneer. I feel the tension in the room rise up a notch.

“Sam. Luke. Take care of Jake please,” Niall huffs, putting his empty beer bottle beside him as he stands.

The two designated gang members rise, grunting as they haul their buddy out of the living room. A trail of blood follows behind them.

“You do know that if you broke his nose, we’re going to break Gabrielle’s, right?” the blonde begins lightly. I realise someone has paused the game as his words weigh heavily in the silent room. “And punch her in the gut for that matter.”

My friend whimpers in the corner.

“And all this violence because you couldn’t keep your anger in check,” he emphasises.

“He deserved it. He—”

“He was simply doing as I asked. I asked him to taunt you,” Niall cuts me off dryly. “This was not only a punishment, but also a test. And you failed. You keep deceiving me Brooke,” he sighs, pulling a revolver out of his pocket. My blood runs cold. “I’m starting to believe that you don’t have much of a purpose apart from angering me,” he continues, pointing the weapon in my direction. “Maybe I was wrong. Maybe you’ll never fit within the gang after all,” he reasons simply.

Pushing my fear aside, I cross my arms.

“I never wanted to be part of the gang anyways,” I reply boldly. “So go ahead. Shoot me. I dare you.”

He cocks his eyebrow upwards.

The tension in the room is so thick it can be cut with a knife.

“You think I can’t do it, Cupcake?” he states, grinning.

“I know you can’t,” I retort, not letting any doubt show on my face even though I’m trembling. There’s a moment of silence.

“Right,” he admits, nodding his head in mock defeat, “I can’t possibly kill you now because you’re so fun to toy with. But I can shoot her.”

I barely have the time to react as Niall’s barrel moves sideways, the shot ringing loudly in the air.

Gabrielle’s pained scream resonates in my ear.

I shriek, spinning around to help my friend, only to be held back by Harry. Louis rushes past us to help my pained friend as I wrestle against Harry’s hold. I can’t see her. I have no idea where she’s been shot. How much pain she’s in.

“Christ Horan how much blood do you want on your floor?!” the British boy grunts.

“I have Brooke to clean it up afterwards,” Niall retorts.

I let out scream of rage, trying to claw my way out of Harry’s arms but failing. I’m pinned to the ground a few feet away, right in the middle of the living room. I feel the maid’s skirt rising but I don’t care anymore, desperately wanting to help my friend.

“Sorry lads,” Niall sighs. “Party’s over. We can finish this another time,” the leader declares. “I have a little maid to take care of.”

“But the match—”

I hear the Irish boy slam the speaker into a wall.

“Harry get off me!” I holler but my shout goes unnoticed, and so do my struggles.

“Are you going to whine like a little bitch, Brad?” the leader retorts harshly. “I was nice enough to invite you into my home and that’s how you thank me?”

“No sir.”

“That’s what I thought. Anymore complaints?”

The handful of men left grumble, grabbing their stuff as they exit the house. From what I can tell, Harry, Liam, Louis, Zayn, Gabrielle and I are the only ones left in the devil’s house.

“Niall she’s bleeding too much,” Louis states. “We need to get her to a hospital now or she won’t make it.”

“I couldn’t care less if she didn’t make it.”

“You fucking bastard! I’ll fucking—”

Harry’s hand covers my mouth, silencing me.

“Well I care,” Louis states.

“She doesn’t deserve to pay for her friend’s stupidity,” Zayn agrees.

“Do whatever the hell you want, I simply don’t want any hospitals involved,” the blonde responds, not a single ounce of sympathy in his voice.

“Fuck. Okay Zayn help me. We’re going to take her to my room. I might have a few things,” he states urgently.

I finally manage to get Harry off me, knocking my elbow into his face.  I stand, only to see blood everywhere. I’m tackle back on the ground by Liam. The bulky man leaves me absolutely no space for struggling, pressing my face into the carpet soaked in Jake’s blood while pressing his knee into the crook of my back. Both my hands are locked tightly into his large hand.

“Well this was a fucking mess,” Niall sighs to himself as Gabrielle’s pained whimpers echo father away from me. _This is all my fault. I’m the one putting her in danger._ “God fucking dammit Brooke,” he grunts, sitting on his sofa. I manage to peek up at him as he takes a peaceful sip of his beer. “Why do you have to fuck shit up so bad every single time?”

“We’re losing her!” I hear Zayn’s shout.

“Get her to a hospital! Please!” I beg from underneath Liam. The metallic scent of blood invades my nose, making me nauseous.

“No.”

“I’ll…” I gulp. “I’ll sleep with you willingly if you do,” I manage weakly.

He bursts out laughing, taking me completely off guard.

“And what do I gain out of this? Darling, you act as if you’re going to hate being fucked. As if you’re making a big sacrifice. If I can promise you anything, it’s that you won’t get enough of me.”

“Well I’d be sacrificing everything I stand for,” I retort, almost insulted.

“And it wouldn’t be the first time. You killed a man, remember?” he scoffs. I flinch. “I’m going to need something better than that,” he continues.

“Like what?!” I exclaim, lost.

“You’re going to sign a little sheet. One that’ll ensure you work for me for the next three years. Because if I do this little favour of taking your friend to the hospital, you’re going to owe me. Big time.” _Three years?! No. Never. I’d rather die._ “Your friend doesn’t have much time by the way. Ah and I forgot to mention, if you do accept, I’ll even stop using her as leverage.”

_Which means that as soon as she’s better, she can report them all to the authorities!_

“You promise? You promise you’ll release her and never ever harm her again?” I get out rapidly, analyzing the whole situation very quickly.

“That I do.”

“Then fine. But get her to a hospital!”

“I don’t want any more shit from you Brooke. Is that clear?” he drags on, taking another sip of his beer. “Nothing. Niet. Nada. Or the next time, you can be sure the bullet won’t miss her vital organs.”

“Alright! Get her to a damn hospital!” I yell, nearly sobbing.

“You heard her lads! Get poor Gabrielle to the hospital,” Niall declares loudly. “And then all of you lot pack your bags: we’re heading back to Europe for a couple of months.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I know i'm so long to update.... but please leave a comment? Just so I know I'm not continuing this fic for nobody? :) xxx Love you all.


	21. Regrets

“Tsk tsk not so fast, pet,” Niall’s fingers wrap in my short hair and stop me as I spin around to make sure Gabrielle is taken care of. “I believe you and I just made business arrangements. I think we should see to these first. Louis can take care of your friend.”

“Let go of my hair, I’m not an animal!” I protest, reflexively sending my fist to his stomach. He stops it easily, fingers wrapping around my small fist before squeezing it.

“Already going back on your word, Sweets?” he chuckles in my ear. “I said no shit Brooke. No protests, no fighting back, no nothing. You can’t so much as breathe without my permission. I don’t care if I hurt you—you suck it up, doll, and endure. If you can’t tolerate something as mundane as hair pulling, you’re nothing more to me than a good-looking toy. And I’m pretty sure you can guess what I’ll do when I get bored with my toy.”

I grimace and bite my lip, holding back a comment.

“Do I make myself clear?”

“Crystal,” I respond.                                                                                                          

“Good.” To my surprise, he releases my hair and latches onto my arm instead. “Come along then.”

He tugs me upstairs none too gently and leads me down the corridor.

My eyes grow big as I connect the dots: we’re heading to the library. I find myself excited, momentarily forgetting about my current predicament.

Niall pushes the big doors open, the sound resonating throughout the room.

Before me are hundreds and hundreds of books filed up into shelves. The room is dimly lit, and small lamps illuminate the handful of reading chairs placed randomly in the room.

The urge to sink into one of them and bury myself into a book is so strong I don’t even realize I’m heading towards one of them until the gang leader yanks me harshly in the opposite direction, to the far end of the room.

A looming black door makes its appearance and I find myself being pushed through and inside a very cramped room. The latter isn’t furnished much: there’s a desk and two chairs as well a small chandelier giving barely enough lighting for me to see farther than five feet away from me. I’m guessing it’s meant to be destabilizing.

“Take a seat,” the blonde devil instructs, motioning the red plastic chair in front of the desk. He, on the other hand, sits in the big leather chair.

I watch silently as he pulls out a set of keys from his pocket and unlocks the top left drawer of the desk, pulling out a thick folder and dumping it in front of him. I notice my name sits on the top.

“This is everything Louis and I have gathered about you, Brooklyn Sarah Evans,” he states. “This is my insurance for the next three years,” he trails on, taking a pen out.

“And what is that supposed to include? What have you gathered?” I enquire through clenched teeth.

“Your medical history for one. Your school report cards. Your family tree,” he leafs through the sheets.

“That doesn’t give you much now does it?” I scoff.

“Louis also took the liberty of finding your birth certificate and your social security number,” he counters. “Therefore, I control any chance you have of making money in the U.S.” Niall continues, voice void of emotion. “So if, by some miraculous way, you manage to make it out of the European Union without my knowing, you won’t be able to come back here to make a life for yourself.”

 _You fucking bastard_. I want to scream out in rage, but I settle on clenching my fists.

“Now I need you to sign this,” he adds, placing a lilac sheet in front of me.

“What is it?” My eyes skim over the words quickly. I spot accompaniment, legal, and disability.

“Whether I tell you or not, you’re going to sign it, Cupcake,” he answers.

He rolls the pen in my direction and I slam my palm on it.

“I want to know what I’m signing,” I repeat.

“No. You don’t get to make decisions. I do. Now defy me one last time, I dare you.” His eyes are hard as ice, challenging me. “I don’t need someone that’ll cause me more trouble than they’re worth.”

I hear the distinct click of a hammer being pulled backwards.

My heartbeat quickens as I take in his tense position, and the fact that I can’t see his left hand. There’s clearly a gun under the desk, pointed right at me. And the chair I’m sitting on clearly isn’t as expensive as his to facilitate cleaning when his business arrangements don’t suit him. Like now.

_Calm down, Brooke. Breathe in, breathe out. And sign his damned sheet if it can buy you more days to live. You’ll make it out. Simply not now._

Taking a deep breath, I pick the pen up and place it on the line. I’m trembling as I write the B of my name.

“Wise choice, pet. Very wise.” I catch him shoving the gun back in his shoe, but somehow my stress doesn’t diminish. _He’s serious. He doesn’t really need me. He simply enjoys playing._

“What are you hoping to achieve in life?” I ask, fighting the shaking in my voice as I finish signing the sheet binding my fate to Niall’s.

“Excuse me?” he responds, snatching the piece of paper. I can tell my question has destabilized him. He places it back into my folder, stands and pulls me out of the room, seemingly eager to see me out.

“Your goals? Your objectives? What is your motivation?” I insist.

“My motives don’t concern you, Cupcake,” he denies, locking the door behind him. I’m dragged out of the library, his digits bruising my forearm.

“They do. If I work for you, your goal has become my goal, no?” I resist the strong urge to pull my arm out of his grasp, letting him tug me back downstairs. The gang leader stares blankly at me so I continue. “You can’t expect me to believe you roam streets, cause chaos and fight other gangs for no reason—”

“My motives don’t concern anyone but myself Brooke. All that is asked from you is to obey my every order without protest and in return, you get my protection. Simple as that,” he silences dryly. “Now, as soon as you’re done wiping the blood off my floor, Liam will take you to the airport while I take care of last minute details. Harry will have packed a bag of necessities for you,” he explains. Niall pauses and sighs deeply, rubbing his face in fatigue or annoyance, I’m not sure. “I’ll join you in an hour or so, right before we check-in our baggage,” he ends. His blue eyes scan me up and down. “And you might want to change when you’re done cleaning. That maid outfit is not made for traveling.”

“Wait!” I stop him as he’s about to turn around. “How will I know you’ll keep your end of the bargain and leave Gabrielle be?”

“How will I know you’ll behave on the plane?” he counters. I blink. “It’s all a question of trust, princess.”

“I don’t trust you. Not for one second.”

“Well that’s not my problem, now ain’t it?”

As he smirks and spins on his heel, I grit my teeth and resist the strong urge to jump at his throat like a wild animal. “What about my father?!” I protest.

But Niall ignores me, walking down the stairs to the basement.

“Chances are The Wanted are going to follow us to Europe,” Harry supplies calmly, leaning on the doorframe. “They came to Chicago following us after all,” he reasons, looking at me.

“The Wanted?”

“Jay and his gang are called The Wanted.”

“Cute,” I scoff. “And what are you guys called? The Passive-Aggressive Bunnies?” I roll my eyes, proceeding to the kitchen across the living room to fill a bucket with warm water and soap in the sink.

“Bunnies?” Harry chuckles, head cocking sideways.

“All of you lot are obsessed with sex. So yes, bunnies,” I snap, shutting the tap and hauling the bucket near the mess on the living room floor.

“We are not obsessed. It just happens to be one of our favourite hobbies,” he shrugs, slumping on the couch as I crouch to the floor with a sponge. I start scrubbing, bile crawling up my throat at the quantity of blood. Gabrielle’s blood. I grimace. _This is all my fault. If only I’d listened to Dad on the first night._

♣○♣○♣○♣

 

“Here,” Niall hands me a passport as we’re about to check in for the plane. I flip to the first page, to realize that not only did he make a fresh one, but he also slightly altered by identity: I’m now Rebecca O’Leary, from Galway in Ireland. _Great._

“When did you make this?” I say under my breath. “And why the fuck did you make me Irish?” I add, leaning on the small suitcase Harry had packed up for me. To make it seem as if I was actually travelling.

“Louis did. A week ago,” he replies, just as quiet to avoid being overheard by others around us. “And being Irish is awesome, thank you very much.” He pulls out the lilac sheet out of his bag and hands it over to me. “Now listen well because if things do not go as planned—”

“I know, I’m dead meat.”

“Glad to see you’re catching on.” He motions my passport and the sheet. “You’re going to hand both of those to the lady at the desk with a big smile. You won’t say a single word, or pretend to understand anything: you’ll be passing for a deaf-mute—”

“Excuse me what?!”

But I’m silenced with a harsh squeeze as our turn is up.

“Just do as I said,” he mutters between clenched teeth. I can practically feel the tension emanating from him as we advance to the counter.

“Hello, your passports please,” the lady asks.

I turn to Niall and he nods.

Exhaling slowly, I carefully slip the demanded document as well as the purple sheet, trying my best to keep a smile on my face. She takes the sheet, skimming over it much like I did yesterday.

It’s only then I realize that yesterday I signed the sheet as Brooklyn Sarah Evans, not Rebecca O’Leary. _Oh yes. Niall is going down._

She calmly types a few things in her computer, while my pulse does nothing but accelerate.

“She’s not in the system,” she tells Niall pointedly. I look around, wiping my sweaty palms on my jeans.

“She isn’t?”

There’s a beep.

“Wait a second,” she types a few other things, checks my passport again, and hits enter. “Sorry, my mistake,” she smiles. “My computer has been lagging all day today, they’ve updated the system just last night. Anyways, all I need from her is another signature to confirm it’s really hers and she’s embarking on the flight willingly. Safety protocols. Only then will I be able to print your boarding passes and check-in your bags.”

“Of course.”

The lady pulls out a sheet from under her desk and points the dotted line, handing me a pen.

My eyes meet Niall’s again before dropping to the sheet. _Do I sign as Brooke or as Rebecca? Bah. Niall is doomed anyway, might as well play the game a bit longer._

I clumsily grab the pen and write Rebecca O’Leary in cursive on the line before handing the pen and paper, a tight smile on my lips. She returns my smile and takes the sheet, glancing at the signature.

“Perfect, thank you. Your bags please.”

My ears must’ve deceived me. I don’t move, shocked and confused. _How did Niall manage this?_

Niall carefully pries the handle of my suitcase out of my fingers and places it on the scale, before handing out his own passport. The lady hands him a bright green bracelet.

Two minutes later, Niall is picking out both our passports and boarding passes and leading us to security.

“Same plan here alright,” he tells me as we approach. He encircles the bracelet around my wrist. I can read the ‘Special Needs’ written on it.  “You say nothing. You do as they ask and look pretty. That’s it,” he continues. “It shouldn’t be hard.”

“This is so disrespectful for people with actual special needs,” I grumble.

“You have only yourself to blame,” he retorts. “I wouldn’t have to treat you like a disabled person if I could trust you.”

Belfast, Ireland. That’s where we ended up. After having to endure a seven hour silent flight, without any music or movie because Niall claimed I had to play deaf all the way, I was more than eager to tell him a piece of my mind. Even the customs had bought his sob story. He’d claimed to be my older brother and taking me to America for some much needed sibling bonding since our parents had died in a car crash.

“How the fuck did you manage all of this!” I burst once we’re out of the airport. “The fake identities and all?!”

“I’m Niall Horan,” he shrugs.

“Like that explains everything!” I retort.

“It does. Especially in MY country, darling’,” he smiles. “Now come along, you have a rendezvous with Harry in the next hour or so, and I have a feeling it’ll be very entertaining to watch.”

“A rendezvous?!” _With Harry?!_

“Don’t get your panties in a twist, darling,” he chuckles. “I promise you, you get to keep almost all your clothes on. I’m the only one who’s allowed to play with all of this,” he elaborates, motioning me.

“If I let you,” I snap.

“So now it’s an ‘if’? I’m making progress if you’re considering it as a possibility,” he smirks haughtily. “It’ll be a certainty soon enough,” he whispers in my ear.

I bite my lip until it bleeds, restraining myself from jumping at his throat.

 

♣○♣○♣○♣

 

One of Niall’s men drive’s us to a house right on the outskirts of the city. The dwelling appears to be slightly larger than the one in Chicago, and much more modern too. But I’m so focused on trying to figure out how Niall managed to pull it off that I barely pay attention to any of it.

“It was Louis again, huh?” I mumble as I step out of the car, still angry about the lack of answers I was receiving. Niall had kept information to a bare minimum. “Louis had something to do with it.”

“That he did, Cupcake,” the Irish boy agrees. He sighs. “Ah it’s good to be home,” he declares, staring at the structure.

“How did he do it?” I persist. “I didn’t even sign the right name! It doesn’t make any sense!”

“You’re not giving us enough credit,” Niall sighs, rubbing his face. “Stop pestering me for answers, you won’t be getting any. If he wants to share his feat though, that’s up to him. Let’s—”

As if on cue, another black car pulls up next to ours and a handful of men hop out. Including Louis.

“Louis!” I call out. “Louis, I have questions for you!” I take a step in his direction but Niall stops me.

The older boy turns my way, surprised. Interrogation swims in his eyes, but he spins on his heel, grabs his suitcase and heads inside the house, without saying anything.

“Okay…” I mutter, shoulders slumping.

“It’s better like this. Come on. Let’s not keep Harry waiting,” Niall says, leading me towards the side of the house.

“ _I’ll be talking to you later,”_ Louis speaks in my ear. “ _Niall has other plans for you right now.”_ I open my mouth but Louis beat me to it _. “Don’t reply. Niall will know what’s up. Just do as you’re asked.”_

 _“_ Fine,” I mumble.

“What?” Niall stops and turns towards me. “What’s fine?”

 _“Jesus Brooke, you never learn, do you?”_ Louis sighs.

“The house. The weather,” I improvise. “Everything. Ireland is fine.”

“It’s better than fine, it’s the best country in the world,” he corrects. His hand resumes its initial place on my forearm and he drags me to a series of stairs leading to what is undoubtedly the basement, right beside the house.

“You know I won’t be running anywhere, right?” I say. “So you can stop dragging me around everywhere like an animal before your hand is tattooed on my forearm.”

“Right you are.” He chuckles and releases my arm, mumbling something about irony before practically hopping down the stairs. He opens the door and motions for me to step inside.

I’m suddenly very cautious as I descend the steps, not knowing what to expect in a gang leader’s basement.

Sterile. That’s what the basement smells like when I enter and I don’t like it one bit. I gaze around, not seeing well in the dim lighting. Most of the furniture appear to be discarded items of the house.

There’s a long chair in the corner of the room, right beside Harry.

“Styles, I brought you your date,” the blonde states, pushing me all the way inside before shutting the door behind the both of us.

“Aww Brooke. You could’ve made an effort, sweetheart, you look as if you’d suffered through an eight-hour flight,” the British boy states, grinning.

“Ha. Ha.” But as I catch a glimpse at myself in a discarded body mirror by the door, I realize he’s right and I do look chaotic: my hair is a mess, my eyes are droopy and my clothes are loose and wrinkly. But I don’t care. It’s not even a date.

“Take a seat, sunshine,” he chuckles, motioning the chair. I clench my fists and oblige, sitting warily, prepared to jump off at any moment. I watch Harry as he turns to the table behind him, fumbling with something. There’s the sound of glass bottles being moved.

Goosebumps rise on my skin. _Is this another sick operation like the one Louis did? Why would I need another one?! I’ve behaved! I already have a damn microchip!_

“Niall—”

“Don’t be so tense, Cupcake,” Niall counters, approaching. My dread grows as his hands reach downwards to the bracket of his trousers.

“Niall, no,” I warn, moving to get off the chair. His left hand pushes my shoulder down, forcing me to stay put.

“Calm down, Brooke. I won’t fuck you just now. I promised you’d get to keep most of your clothes on, and when we’ll fuck, I intend to take you completely bare, in the warmth of my bedroom upstairs.”

His voice is anything but reassuring, and his free hand is removing his belt.  

“This is only a safety measure,” he continues, still pressing me into the chair. “Give me your hands,” he instructs.

“I-I—”

“Now, Brooke.” I hear the warning in his voice. Reluctantly, I clasp my hands together and hand them over.

His left hand encircles both wrists tightly, before he shifts his body over me and the chair, straddling my midsection.

My breathing accelerates, my heart pounds loudly in my chest. The gang leader forces my arms below my stomach and between his legs.

“Niall—”

“Quit complaining, you’re getting me hot and bothered and that’s not the objective right now,” he mumbles in my ear. I feel him shifting above me but his body is obstructing most of my view. What I’m assuming is his belt, is being wrapped around my body, right below my shoulders but above my chest.

“Right, so if you’d please just get on with it Horan so I can ink her skin,” Harry intervenes.

“Ink my skin?!” I nearly screech, suddenly fighting Niall’s belt.

 The Irish devil gets off me, pleased with his work. My upper body is tightly bound by his belt.

“No, no, no! No tattoos!”

“Oh yes darlin’, you’re getting a tattoo by yours truly,” Harry smiles.

“You have to anyways. Every official member of The Phantoms has one. So off with your pants now,” Niall ends.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: I didn't quite make it to the year mark without an update, thank God, but I believe i still made you wait a hella too long. Now, obviously, as some of you may know, I have nearly five stories I'm trying to manage at the same time. I try my very best to update them one after the other, but sometimes I hit a writer's block, which was the case for Vulnerability. I'm truly sorry and I thank you all for your patience.
> 
> Ive said it once and I'll say it again: I'll never give up on any of my fanfics. I'll always finish them, no matter how much time it'll take me. I need to balance work, school, cheerleading and also friends and family, with story writing. Now obviously I love writing but i won't be able to make a living out of it so I have priorities I need to sort out :(
> 
> Thank you all again, the next chapter shouldn't take as long. I already have the first 1,000 words written! :D


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